The Ties That Bind
by JordanPhoenix
Summary: Why in the world were tough as nails prosecutors, Miles Edgeworth and Franziska Von Karma so eager to play Cupid for those 'foolish fools,' Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey? Simple, because they were the reason the perfectionist pair got together in the first place! MILES needed love help from PHOENIX? WTH? Part 2 of Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy. Fredgeworth. Updated Ch 1: 3/22/2017
1. Bullet For My Valentine

**_Update March 22, 2017: Fredgeworth is my second OTP only to Phaya, and I've always wanted to give their tale more depth, with a stronger introduction that wasn't commencing as an exposition rehash of video game background we all know. So I rewrote chapter one – the rest of the story is unchanged._**

**_I hope old readers of the story will like my efforts of a freshly redone first chapter, and that perhaps new readers will be curious to read the love story of The Perfect Prosecutors! :)_**

**_Last but not least, I also wanted to dedicate this story not only to Miles Edgeworth lover and talented writer, _**_6GunSally_**_, but to my sister from another mister, loyal FF reader and writer, _**_Ilet Morata__r_**_, who is THE biggest Fredgeworth lover I know! Besos, mi hermana dulce!_**

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_A/N: So here is my prequel to my first fan fiction, __**Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman **__and is part 2 of the __**Turnabout Lawful Love Trilogy**__._

_**You don't have**__ to have read the Phaya tale to understand Fredgeworth's love story, so this can be read as a stand-alone story. It takes place during the Matt Engarde case in PW: Justice For All. Very slight spoilers for JFA/T&amp;T/AA1 games._

_Thanks so much to my readers and all those who have favorited, reviewed, story alerted, favorite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! You guys ROCK! :)_

**_cover art used with permission: Sweet Little Vampire on DeviantArt_**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney is property of Capcom, I am not the owner of Phoenix Wright or its characters, because if I were Fredgeworth **_**would actually be together**_** instead of only in my imagination and writing!**

* * *

**Chapter One: ****Bullet For My Valentine**

_Emotional ties. Damn them all._

Miles Edgeworth shut his eyes and tried to squelch the pang of consternation in his chest.

He despised hospitals. Yet wild horses couldn't have dragged him from the ER that day.

_I should have remained The Demon Prosecutor. Life would have been so much simpler for me if I had. But no, I let __**him**__ get past my defenses. I allowed that impulsive fool of an attorney to put a chink in my guarded armor. Now I've gone from being a cold and methodical High Prosecutor who, while criticized for being an android, was still praised for his infallible logic, to being saddled with unnecessary feelings - __yet **again**!_

Up until a certain impulsive, passionate, hot-blooded, _spiky-haired mensch_ had saved Miles's soul from eternal darkness, _unease_ and _uncertainty_ had been all the "unnecessary feelings" he'd thought he'd ever need to contend with!

He'd been fully aware of what others had whispered behind his back until Phoenix Wright had resurfaced in his life; had known his daunting previous title had included rumors of bribing judges and falsified evidence. Miles had done his best to let such imbroglios roll off him like raindrops on an oily pavement.

_Weak people spread rumors. Stupid people believe them. The hell with all of those who judge hardships and pains which they've never known. They don't know what **Manfred Von Karma** did to me. Or what **Damon Gant** did to me! Ergo, as far as **I** was concerned, they could all take their judgments and stick them up their posteriors, where they'll enjoy the company of their peers!_

He would have continued going along and sweeping his emotions under a rug while attempting to remain unaffected by anything, had things not all come to a head a year ago, with his courtroom rival exposing all the evil-doings of both his corrupt former mentor and the police chief. After that, Miles had left the States for some deep soul-reflection time in Europe. He'd returned a completely changed man, resuming his friendship with Phoenix and no longer caring about keeping perfect prosecution records – only about seeking the truth.

That included _finally_ facing the truth about he felt about _her, _all due to the intervening hand of fate.

_Fate,_ in this case, had come in the form of an assassin's bullet to _a particular prosecutor's _shoulder, dramatically changing everything as he knew it.

It was the moment which altered the course of his relationship with his foster sister, forever.

* * *

_The Hotti Clinic_ \- March 22, 3:30 pm

Franziska had looked so small and pale and helpless as they'd wheeled her in on the gurney, and in so much agonizing pain it had nearly brought tears to his eyes to witness. It was unfathomable how a tiny bullet could have taken such a toll on the normally formidable German. She was such a pillar of strength. The smartest, feistiest, toughest girl he'd ever known. He admired those traits of hers so much.

If he were to lose her now…

_I'll never get to tell her what my heart has been crying out for some time now. All I pray for right now is the chance to say these long overdue words aloud to her._

Miles had practically worn a groove into the ground of the hospital emergency room as he paced back and forth, anxiously awaiting news on his foster sister's health. The letter he'd penned while in the waiting room was clutched in his fist, and he found himself agitatedly re-reading it again for the umpteenth time.

* * *

_**Dear Franziska, **_

_**As you read this, I ask you heed my words. I promise you they are medicine. They come from my soul - a bridge to your own. They are something you can trust, meine dame; though I know it hasn't always appeared that way. **_

_**I am so sorry for the pain I caused you when I disappeared last year. It was like a test, not only for myself, but in hindsight, even a way of testing you; perhaps to see how you'd respond to the news, or simply to ensure you were a safe person to give my heart to when all was said and done. Now I know you always were, and still are, and I carry the shame, not only for needing to ever do such a thing, but not having the courage to let you know I was alive and well, or how I felt about you, merely because I still wasn't brave enough to do so without knowing how you felt first.**_

_**In this journey we call life, and in the world of law, I have tried every measurable path, and pushed on every door seeking justice, seeking the truth, while trying to find out who I really am. Amongst the things I learned was that the**__** few in my life whom I've let into my heart in full measure allowed the love flow from me to them, making me realize that love isn't finite. Nevertheless, the human heart and soul can wear thin. It was only when I broke that I ran away, including from you, the only person my instinct could ever fully accept.**_

_**The only woman I have ever truly loved. **_

_**I'm just sorry that it took a madman's bullet to make me come to terms with it.**_

_**You are the one I was born to love, to trust, to save, to nurture to full health. I see who you really are. I see right to your core and I still love you without reserve. What I see is beauty under damage, a spirit caged yet strong, life surging for liberty, boundless generosity at a cost to yourself. You're like me... strong, feminine, yet the same.**_

_**If you will have me, I will be yours for all infinity, softly waiting if ever it is you who needs to wander, and always be there on your return. I know other people have goodness within, I see it every day, I do. Yet you are my other half, my soul twin, my queen... and so I hand you my heart, and pray you keep it safe when the hurricanes come. And no matter what, I am here to keep your heart safe too, to be whatever you need me to be. So no matter where life takes me, with whom, near or far, you will be my rest.**_

_**With a heart filled with the love, which I hope you return for me, too, I now await the many other journeys and adventures life has for us. Yet this one is precious too. I ask that you be my strength and let me be your comfort.**_

_**Love,  
Miles**_

* * *

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

Hurriedly shoving the paper into his inner suit jacket pocket, Miles raised haunted, bloodshot grey eyes and saw a kind-faced, snowy-haired doctor standing in front of him.

"I'm Doctor Weller. I've been the surgeon in charge of Ms. Von Karma's case."

"Is my sister…?" For once in his entire life, the normally articulate attorney couldn't find the right words to the form the question he was too terrified to ask.

"It was a shoulder wound, Mr. Edgeworth," the ER doctor assured him, smiling at the worried-looking prosecutor. "Good thing you were there – you got her here just in time. We were able to successfully remove the bullet. She's lost some blood, and we will have to keep an eye on her for a few days, but she's been medicated and is resting comfortably. You can go see her now."

* * *

Franziska woke up in a foggy haze to hear two pieces of news. First, the extraction of the bullet had been successful, and that despite her protests, she would be kept under observation at the hospital for the next few days. Second, her hard-earned trial, her ultimate triumph over that _dummkopf_, Phoenix Wright, had been taken away from her. And by none other than that traitorous fool of a Little Brother!

Neither surprised her. She had suspected as much. She was just peeved beyond belief that all her careful preparations would now go in favor of _him_ rather than _her_. She felt no qualms admitting that Manfred Von Karma had been quite successful in his endeavors of pitting them against each other. It was sibling rivalry at its best. Or worst, depending on how you looked at it.

She glared as said fool entered her room, as refined, elegant, and, she was loathe to admit, _handsome_ as ever, despite the slight disarray of his normally perfectly styled greyish-black hair and the faint worried crease of his well-groomed eyebrows.

"Franziska," he murmured, looking relieved upon seeing her awaken. "How are you feeling?"

"Just fine," she snarled, sparks flying out of her icy gray eyes. Although his appearance was welcome, it didn't do much to ease her mood. "Why are you still here? You've done your good duty of the day, have you not? You already did the heroics of rushing me here whilst driving like a madman in that sports car of yours. Surely you comprehend that you should leave me be now, so that I can rest?"

"I do," Miles agreed, frowning. "But I wanted to see you with my own two eyes, Franziska. Surely _you_ can understand how I cannot be so heartless that I wouldn't worry about my Big Sister, as she's the only family I have left?"

"You always were a sentimental fool, Miles Edgeworth," she scoffed, unwilling to show how touched she was by his words, yet how inexplicably irked she was at his reminder that he indeed saw her as his _kin_. Which was ridiculous of course. What _else_ did she want him to see her as?

_Not his __**sister**__, but an actual __**woman**__ mayhap? One that he had come to see for reasons __**other**__ than obligatory __**pity**__?_

Franziska cursed herself for her foolish train of thought. She blamed the medication. She figured it was best to keep her words to a minimum to keep her from uttering any foolish drivel that could later be used as incriminating evidence against her.

Miles didn't appear to be too affronted by the barb. He simply shrugged and offered her a half-smile, instead.

"Guilty as charged, I guess. I shall not, however, repent being in ownership of a heart any more than I would expect you to atone for your _lack_ of one."

The words stunned her. They stung. Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes at the onslaught, but she was too proud to let them fall.

"If you're done sharing your unsolicited observations on the presence of my vital organs," she said coolly, turning her head away from him. "Might I suggest you leave now, so I may get my aforementioned rest?"

"Don't you want an update on the investigation?"

"Fine." Her voice was wooden. "Go on then."

And Miles told her everything, De Killer's calling card, Celeste Inpax's suicide note, and the rescue team he had dispatched in search of Maya.

Franziska ceased her listless plucking of her hospital bed blanket, which she had been doing the entire time he was speaking in order to avoid looking at him. However, her head jerked up upon hearing this last detail.

"The Fey girl has been kidnapped? I hope you find her alive and well, fast. We both know what a complete mess that fool-hearted Phoenix Wright is without her. He would hardly be a worthy courtroom adversary to _either_ of us if he's even _half_ the emotional wreck he was the last time she was out of the picture. You told me how despondent he was when she left for home last time. He must be out of his mind right now, as that fool is so madly infatuated with her."

"A fact that all parties seem to be aware of _except_ for Wright and Miss Fey," Miles grinned. "I will not fault Wright for his ardor however, as I am quite fond of the young lady myself…"

"_Really_?" Franziska cut in, feeling the first irrational pangs of jealousy unfolding within her and thus hating herself. "How _sweet_, Little Brother. Does that fool attorney know he has _romantic competition _for the fair damsel in distress's heart?"

The High Prosecutor was taken aback at the scathing pitch in her inflection. Maya was a cheeky, ever-enthusiastic spirit medium, with a contagious smile and overall cheery disposition. She was also one of the few people in his life privy to know about his secret _Steel Samura_i obsession, which she also shared. It was their little secret, or so he needed to believe. Alongside Phoenix, Maya had also gone to bat for him in court, even risked her life in order to secure evidence proving his innocence when he'd stood as the defendant on trial for his father's murder. Miles had never forgotten this. In fact, it was all the more reason he'd been willing to go above and beyond all means to ensure the safe return of the irrepressible young woman whom his dear friend loved so desperately; a fact that _everyone_ seemed to be well aware of, with the exception of Maya, and even Phoenix himself.

Normally, Miles would have let such a typical waspish, insouciant _Von Karma _comment slide by, unnoticed. However, one of the _few_ good things with being in back in touch with one's feelings, he realized with wry amusement, and a slight stirring of hope, was that it made you _acutely aware_ of the latent emotions of those _around_ him, as well.

Which meant the unmistakable note of _jealousy_ he'd noted in those stormy gray eyes, in spite of the lofty tone, was clearly palpable, not to mention _encouraging_.

"Whatever nonsense is this you are speaking of, Franziska?" Miles did his best to appear flummoxed at the words. "If you had allowed me to finish my sentence,_ what I was actually going to say_ was: 'I am quite fond of her myself, as she's done much for me in the past.' I feel that I should at least return the favor."

"Ah yes, I remember you telling me now," Franziska mumbled, embarrassed by her outburst. She resumed her blanket plucking so he wouldn't see her pink cheeks. "Reckless girl, although admittedly admirable. She was present at Papa's trial, wasn't she? The one who secured some important evidence that secured your acquittal."

"Yes…" Miles seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, then looked at her with a knowing smirk all of a sudden. "How _curiously odd_ that _you_, with your _perfect _memory, should forget such an important detail."

"Have you forgotten, you fool, that I am on very heavy medication?" Franziska scowled, despite turning a deeper shade of red now. "You would think you would cut me some slack, hence!"

"I would, without question," Miles said quietly, with a look in his eyes she'd never seen before. "But that would require me to have a _heart_ now, wouldn't it?"

Franziska was speechless, for once in her life. She felt a stinging sensation behind her eyes and turned away, praying he wouldn't gloat about his victory in this particular battle of wits. She was just as foolish as he was, allowing him get to her this way and letting her emotions get the better of her. She was a Von Karma, after all, and shouldn't allow herself to be blinded with such trivial matters. Well she'd be _damned_ if she even let him _suspect_…

All thoughts vanished from her mind as she suddenly felt the unexpected warmth of Miles's hand clasped over her own.

"I'm glad you're alright, Franziska."

She huffed, although she allowed their hands to remain linked.

"Don't get all mushy on me now, you fool," she muttered, although her face remained slightly flushed as she stared down at their interlocked fingers, still refusing to look him in the eye. "I'm not a little girl. I don't need my Little Brother's pity."

"It's not pity," he murmured, and his hand tightened around hers.

Something in his voice made her force herself to look up at him then, and she caught her breath at the sudden intensity of his gaze.

"And I think deep down, you know that's not the case here. Just as surely as you must know that I've ceased regarding you as my Big Sister for quite some time now…"


	2. Love Is A Battlefield

**Chapter Two: ****Love is a Battlefield**

_LAX Airport, Departures Gate_ – March 23, 9:00 pm

"So you're running away," Miles said dully, with a trace of bitterness. He couldn't believe she'd been about to leave the country just like that, as soon as the Matt Engarde case had been wrapped up, creeping away like a thief in the night.

Miles had honestly thought he'd meant more to her than that. Had that moment between them at the hospital meant nothing to her at all? He could have sworn he'd seen tears of varying emotions in her exquisite eyes when he'd bravely made his confession of how he felt about her now, and she'd whispered that she was tired and needed to sleep, but had pulled him close and brushed her lips against his with a feather-like touch before laying back on her pillow and drowsily closing her eyes, her tiny hand still holding his. He'd left quietly soon after, but had been sure that as soon as things died down and the trial was over, they would pick up where things had left off. That she would tell him that he wasn't the only one who felt this way. Had it really only been all _been in his mind_?

She wouldn't have even given him the courtesy of a proper goodbye and would have left back to Germany without a second glance if he'd not chased her down with that tracking device she'd planted on Detective Gumshoe which had somehow wound up in her luggage! Good Lord, the woman was maddening! Now he wondered if their tender moment had been a figment of his own imagination, stemmed from years of desire.

"Shut up! You have no idea what it's like being Manfred Von Karma's daughter, Miles Edgeworth," Franziska's voice was cold.

"Franziska…"

"You don't understand a thing! You can't possibly understand what it means to be Manfred Von Karma's daughter! So many expectations from everyone around me...expectations I must fulfill! I'm expected to win no matter what. And failure? Such a thing is not an option for me!" She put a hand on her hip and eyed him with her normal stoic expression. "My father was a genius. There's no doubt about that! But...But me... I'm no genius. I've always known that. But I... I _had_ to be one. I _had to_. I'm expected to win no matter what. And failure is not an option."

"You may not be a genius like your father," Miles protested, wanting to smack some sense into her and wishing she would stop being so hard on herself. "But...You _are_ a prosecutor. You have been and always will be."

"No I'm not. Not anymore." Her glacial eyes betrayed no emotion. "I've even thrown my whip away."

"Speaking of that," Miles grinned, presenting her with her discarded prized possession. "Wright gave me this to hold onto." That ever intuitive attorney. _Wright, you knew something like this would happen, didn't you?_

"I'm going to say this again," he went on. "We prosecutors do not fight for personal honor or pride. I hope you will think deeply... about what you should be striking down with that whip." _Other than my ego, my sanity…my __**heart**__._

"You haven't changed a bit." Her eyes began to flash fire. "You've always left me alone and walked on ahead without me! Miles Edgeworth… I've always_ hated _you!" _Because_ _when you walked out, you left __**me**__ behind! I felt like you didn't care about me at all! Like I was just some bratty kid you didn't give a damn about! How could you have just left me alone with that monster that we called father? I looked up to you! I worshipped you! I…I __**loved**__ you!_

Miles stared at her, too dumbfounded by the unprovoked attack to speak.

"And then... Finally, my chance to take my revenge on you arrived. If I could win against that man... If I could make Phoenix Wright bow down in defeat... Then this "girl" you left behind would have risen higher than you! That was supposed to be my revenge!" _I've always had to keep on trying twice as hard to prove I was as good as you. I wanted irrefutable substantial evidence to show you that I'm no longer a little girl, and that I was your equal, somehow. So __**then **__maybe you would see me as an adult and now you would care. As your sibling I hated you because of this insane rivalry my father played the catalyst in. But as a woman, how I felt about you __**as a man**__ was a different story. __**It still is**__. And it scares the hell out of me. Which is why I just can't stay!_

"I see…" He finally managed, barely able to get the words out. _She never had feelings for me. It's just so easy for her to cut her losses and flee. And I know how she is when she's got her mind made up. There's not a thing in hell I can do to change it._

"You know what?" She said suddenly, an acquiescent look coming across her face, replacing that incensed one from a moment ago. "I can't change who I am. I can't throw away everything I've been until today." _But, under the right circumstances, I could be persuaded to try. I just need some incentive, Miles. Please prove me wrong._

"I believe you can," he said quietly. "Just like Adrian Andrews did."

"Adrian Andrews...?"

"You were going to use her during the trial, right? But you...You were "dependent" on your father by using his tactics. Isn't that right? Today, you chased after me, after I had left you behind all these years. And that's why we're standing here now, side by side. But I have no intention of stopping." Edgeworth took a deep breath and looked Franziska straight in the eyes, noting her stricken expression. He then switched from logical prosecutor mode into that of a man who couldn't hide the sadness and resignation in his voice as he spoke the next words.

"But, if you say you are going to quit your walk down the prosecutor's path...Then, this is where we part ways, Franziska von Karma." _For good, even though this is killing me. Because I still have my pride. I will no longer play the fool here. I'll be __**damned**__ if I beg a woman with a heart of ice to remain here for my sake._

She looked completely stunned at his words. Then, to Miles' complete shock and amazement, her beautiful face crumpled, and for the first time he'd seen since they were children, Franziska Von Karma began to cry, giant tears trickling down her face in unending streams.

"I... I... I am Franziska von Karma!" She wept, nearly wrenching his heart with her tears. "Don't think I'm going to walk in your shadow forever...Our battle... begins now... so you had better prepare yourself, Miles Edgeworth!"

The haughty, arrogant, artic facade of the woman he'd known for so long was shattered, and gone forever. In its place was a girl, heart-sore and vulnerable, sobbing so hard her slender shoulders shook. The same girl who hadn't shed a tear when her father had been incarcerated, then executed, or when she'd been shot, was now weeping as if her heart was breaking, when he'd told her that this was goodbye.

That's when it hit him. The evidence was so glaring, so obvious, that Miles cursed himself for not seeing it earlier.

She had been _hoping_ he'd come after her. Franziska Von Karma was a perfectionist. There was no way a woman of her cultured taste and sophisticated demeanor could have _ever_ "accidentally" packed away Gumshoe's tattered, grubby coat among her fine things. _She didn't want to leave._

And Miles Edgeworth_, _the so-called genius prosecutor that he was, discarding the poignant hospital memory of that fiery look of jealousy on her face when she'd thought he'd had a tendre for the Fey girl and swirl of raw emotion in her eyes when she'd kissed him, _he_ had been about to let her go! And even bade her _adieu_!

He really was the fool she had always accused him of being. Miles had never been more filled with more self-loathing in his entire life than he was at that moment.

But he could berate himself later. Right now, he had to act first, think later. He had to be…Phoenix Wright.

"If by battle you mean the one for your heart, Franziska, then get your armor," Miles growled, noting her startled expression as he strode purposefully towards her. "Because I promise you, I never fight to lose. And I _will_ be victorious!"

Without meaning to, he reached her in three strides and snatched her in his arms. Her breathless gasp tickled his ear as he lifted her off her feet. Urgently his mouth roved across her face with rough kisses that stung her cheek, her chin, her forehead. As his lips lowered to hers, his hands reached down and, scooping up her legs, wrapped them around his waist. Finally, when Miles' hungry mouth at last claimed Franziska's, his kiss was slow and deliberate, giving everyone in the departure lounge more than enough time to enjoy the spectacle.

For once, the normally conventional pair couldn't have cared less about making a public exhibition. The rest of the world faded away into the background. The only thing that existed right now was each other.

He grabbed each side of her face and pressed her forcefully against him, locking his lips around hers with ravenous intent.

Franziska's mouth opened immediately, and she gripped the back of his neck, pushing them together closer, a low moan like a growl rising from her throat as she pressed herself against him. He kissed her harder, wrapping one arm around her back and pulling the rest of her body closer. She returned his kiss with aching sweetness, her silken silvery hair falling into his face. She completely gave herself into it, gave all to it, a moment's madness where body ruled mind and blood roared over reason. Her heat, her scent, her devastating sensuality all entered his bloodstream. Beneath his hands, the lush, lithe give of her body pressed against his chest, the hum of that ardor she kept so contained, burned through him.

He melted under that passion as though it were rain and he a pillar of salt.

He stood, helpless in that crowded airport, unable to rule his needy mouth, his restless hands, while, within, his heart beat out the mortifying truth. The battle was over. Neither of them had lost. Because they had both won.

_Ich liebe dich._

_I love you_.

Check and mate. He was hers now.


	3. Long Distance Miles

**Chapter Three:**** Long Distance Miles**

_LAX Airport, Departures Gate_ – March 23, 9:15 pm

Miles' mind was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events that had just transpired, and he felt like every clichéd Fabio romance novel reference could have described him at that moment.

His heart was still wildly pounding, his pulse was racing, his breathing was still ragged in his chest…and his _ears were ringing_?

Frowning, he gave his head a shake and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He was mostly successful as his senses seemed to calm down a tad, but still the ringing continued.

It took him another moment to realize that the ringing he was still hearing was not in his ears, but coming from his cell phone, which was insistently buzzing and vibrating in his pocket. Relieved that he wasn't completely losing his mind, and not even checking to see who it was, he hurriedly answered.

"Miles Edgeworth speaking."

"Edgeworth! Talk to me! Did you manage to catch Franziska in time?"

He blinked in surprise and quickly looked at his phone. The caller ID he'd programmed as a contact read: "Phoenix Wright, Idiot Attorney."

"Wright," he managed to finally reply. "Where are you? Are the festivities still going on at the Gatewater Hotel?"

"Nah, the party is over. Man, you missed quite the feast, Edgeworth! But we're all back home now. Maya and Pearls crashed and burned the minute their heads hit the pillow. I'm not sure if it was the gluttonous amounts of food they consumed or just the strain of all they've been through, but either way, I'm kind of relieved to have some peace and quiet right now. I got an earful from Maya all the way home for being a _cheapskate_ because I refused to foot the entire bill for the party, never mind Lotta's camera, like they expected me to! The frizzy-haired viper had some choice words for me when I made her pitch in for the amount, let me tell you! Will Powers was a good sport about helping out, thank God. Jeez, do these people think I'm made of money or something?!"

"It's hard to have a surplus of money when you work so many cases _pro bono_, Wright," Miles reminded him, a wry smile creeping on his face in spite of himself. "And I'm sorry I missed out on the festive fare, but yes, I did manage to catch up to Franziska. She was most pleasantly surprised with the return of her trusty weapon of choice."

"I thought she'd be more surprised it was still in _one piece_ after surely making Engarde eat some serious leather!" Phoenix laughed. "I'm glad you reached her in time. Is she still there, so I can thank her again for her help?"

"No…" Miles closed his eyes, and his tone unwittingly laced with despair as he murmured the words. "She's…gone."

Good Lord, had it really just been a quarter of an hour ago that he'd been holding the woman of his dreams tightly against his body while they devoured each other like a couple of crazed, hormonal teenagers? Miles could still feel the sweet taste of her on his lips and the smell the intoxicating scent of her on his skin...

There was an anguished, imploring look in her eyes when they'd at last broken their heated embrace. She'd gently pulled away from his arms, her eyes filled with love and regret as she began backing up towards the American Airlines waiting lounge.

"I have to go now," Franziska whispered, the barely suppressed tears burning a lump in her throat.

"No, you don't," Miles insisted. "After all this time, we've finally found each other. How can you just want to up and leave now?"

"It's not that I _want_ to go," she said softly. "It's that I _have_ to go. Germany is my home, Miles, just as surely as the United States is yours. Surely you can understand that?"

_No!_ His heart screamed silently. _I don't understand! Home is where the heart is! And without you in my life, I have a house, but no home to call my own!_

These were words that could never be spoken aloud.

He was Miles Edgeworth. He was a man whose aloof and cool exterior had, thanks to his freshly renewed friendship with an emotional basket case, albeit inspiringly passionate defense attorney, had only recently thawed out enough to embrace his feelings again. But not enough to actually _express_ _everything_ his newly vulnerable heart was feeling. Not just yet. He'd already created enough of a show with that nearly X-rated clinch they'd been in, and had been beyond embarrassed by the whoops and cheers of on-lookers that had followed afterward. He was a composed professional. A High Prosecutor. He had to at least maintain the dignity of his office _somewhat_.

And that included _not_ publicly falling to his knees and beseeching with the woman he loved not to leave him, which is what he desperately yearned to do.

"You do whatever you feel is best, Franziska," he replied, with a serenity he was far from feeling.

"Please try to understand, _liebling_," she whispered. "My life in Europe is all I know. And you've just given me so much I need to contemplate upon and reassess. Surely you can relate to my need to do this in the place of my childhood, as you did the same yourself last year? Plus, I may have an opportunity to interview with Interpol…"

"I do understand, Franziska," Miles assured her, this time sincerely. _Good Lord_, but the woman could make one hell of an unbeatable argument! Even if she hadn't brought up his own reflection induced departure, which would have made him an irredeemable hypocrite if he'd objected, she had had him at the mention of Interpol. Ambition was something they both shared, and one of the few non-toxic values instilled into them by Manfred Von Karma. Who was he to stand in the way of her aspirations and professional growth? "But I will miss you."

"I have to get on that plane now, Miles." Her eyes filled with tears as the final boarding call for her flight was announced. "But please believe me when I say that although my body is leaving America for now, my heart remains here, with you."

Public decency be damned! Miles pulled her into his arms then and crushed his lips again hers in a scorching, passionate kiss that revealed more than it could ever hope to conceal.

"This isn't over, Franziska," he promised as she turned around one final time to look longingly at him. "I meant what I said when I claimed I don't fight to lose. I'm not letting you go that easily."

"Remove your armor, _liebling_" she called back, blowing him one last kiss. "I surrendered my sword into your hands, along with my heart."

And then, just like in a dream, she disappeared, leaving the forlorn prosecutor behind.

Life didn't get any crueler.


	4. Phoenix Wright, Love Guru

**Chapter Four: ****Phoenix Wright, Love Guru**

_LAX Airport, Departures Lounge _– March 23, 9:30 pm

Ever the perceptive attorney, Phoenix noted the unusual angst in his friend's normally composed tone.

"Edgeworth, is everything alright?" He asked kindly. "You sound like you just lost your best friend."

Miles blindly felt behind him for the back of a lounge chair and sank into it gratefully, gripping the phone to his ear. After the unexpected emotional scene with Franziska, having Phoenix the Psychic be on the phone right after was a bit too much, even for him.

"I don't know," he replied frankly, surprisingly himself. "I just…don't know if _alright_ would be an apropos word for my current disposition, Wright."

"OK…" Phoenix's tone went from sympathetic to uncertain. "Um…do you want to talk about it, Edgeworth?"

"Not unless you have any suggestions for sealing a 9200 mile gap between here and Germany."

"Sorry, my port key is currently on loan to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Phoenix joked. "_Hold it_! Is this about Franziska leaving? Are you feeling blue because you're going to miss your sister?"

Miles recoiled at the words. "_Objection_! She's _not_ my _sister_, Wright!"

"Easy, buddy! Don't bite my head off!" Phoenix chuckled for a moment, then sobered when he was met with dead silence on the phone. "Oh…my…GOD…"he breathed, an understanding note replacing his amused one. "You're in love with her."

The continued silence on the line was his answer.

"Edgeworth, hey, are you still there?" Phoenix began punching the keys of his telephone, creating irritating loud beeping noises over the line.

"Yes, Wright, you fool! Stop that at once!" Miles commanded, taking the phone away from his poor, abused ear.

"Sor-ry! Next time say something! Or _hum_ so I know you're still there!"

He _must_ in be in love, Miles realized disgustedly. How else could he possibly justify his moment of temporary insanity that had made him want to confide in _Phoenix Wright_, of all people? The anti-ladies' man whose romantic history entailed dating serial-killer sociopaths and risking losing his morals and ethics in the name of still undeclared love for his teenage office assistant?

"Wright, _please_!" Miles began rubbing his temple with his free hand. "I implore of you, please stop talking! And button punching!"

"I said I was sorry! But just tell me if I'm right or wrong with my conclusion?"

"You're not wrong," Miles confessed. "I do love Franziska, Wright. Not the way a brother loves a sister. But the way a man loves a woman."

"So then why so glum, chum? Does she not feel the same way about you?"

"No…" Miles said slowly, trying to correctly put things into proper words. "I have reason to believe my devotions are not unrequited. But there is that pesky little problem I just mentioned, if you have already forgotten, of that whole 9200 miles apart I am now from the object of my affection."

"I don't know if I'm just exhausted from today's trial and subsequent after-party so I'm not too quick on the draw right now," Phoenix sounded puzzled. "But I'm still not seeing what the issue here is. Did you not ask her to stay?"

"I did. She left anyway, for various reasons that had naught to do with me."

"But she's only a plane ride away!" Phoenix exclaimed. "It's not like she moved to Mars, or something! You're Mr. Moneybags Prosecutor…surely you can afford a ticket to go visit her, right?"

"It's not that simple, Wright. Europe is hardly next door! We are talking…"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you. 9200 miles and a 10-hour time difference. And I still don't get the problem here. You make it sound like all ties were severed just because she's _leaving on a jet plane…"_

Phoenix's last words were sang to the tune of the famous John Denver song. While his voice wasn't entirely unpleasant, quite the contrary, actually, Miles was in no temperament to be serenaded at that moment.

"Save the romantic lyrics for your own lady love, Wright, I beg you," he sighed. "I suppose you couldn't possibly understand my plight as the person who _your_ heart holds dear both _lives and works _with you."

"Lady love?" Phoenix echoed blankly. "Lives and works with me…wait are you implying that I'm in love with _Maya?"_

"_Gotcha! _Are you implying you _aren't_, Wright?" Miles asked dryly. "Or have you forgotten you've spent the last few days in court desperately trying to get a guilty scumbag declared innocent so that you could save the life of, and I quote, 'the person closest' to you?"

"I think being in love has made you turn mad, Edgeworth!" Phoenix laughed, but it sounded forced, to both their ears. "Maya and me, it's not the same thing. She's my subordinate! She's Mia's baby sister! She's…"

"The woman you love."

"OK, we aren't talking about _me_ here, are we? Although, hypothetically, even if what you accused me of were true, it still isn't the same thing. For one thing unlike in your case, the supposed object of my affection doesn't share said supposed feelings and sees me as an older brother."

"Um hmmm…" Miles was in no mood to argue with such a ridiculous claim. He'd seen the way the raven-haired medium acted around his friend on more than enough occasions to know that at the very least, she harbored a huge crush on the spiky-haired attorney. He was surprised that almost losing her to a kidnapper hadn't scared Wright into declaring his feelings at all. After all, what more could it possibly take?

"And secondly," Phoenix went on. "She's not going to be with me as my assistant forever. Eventually she will have to take over as Master of Kurain Village and probably have to live there and take Pearls with her. Yes I know it's only a two-hour train ride compared to a 14 hour plane trip. But the point is, regardless of what kind of relationship I have with Maya now or then, she _is_ the person closest to me. I would still move heaven and earth to ensure we stayed in touch and she remained in my life. And I'm not going to let a little thing like distance separate us!"

"Nick, that is so sweet! Of course Pearly and I are going to stay in touch if we ever move back to Kurain, silly!"

"Maya!? I thought you were in bed?! How long have you been listening in on the other line?"

"I woke up to go to the bathroom and heard you playing Dr. Love so I just had to find out who you were comparing us to!"

Miles groaned. "Miss Fey – "

"Maya, get off the phone. Edgeworth and I were talking about guy stuff!"

"Ohh…like juicy sex stuff?"

"No, like personal matters of the heart, Miss Nosy. Now hang up the phone!"

"It's about Ms. Von Karma, isn't it?" Maya crowed excitedly.

"_Yes_!" Phoenix said in exasperation just as Miles yelled out, "_No_!"

"I knew it!" Maya clapped her hands together. At least, he assumed she clapped her hands, it would have been very hard holding a phone but that's what it sounded like.

Miles resumed rubbing his temple. He had a full-blown headache now.

"Hey, you didn't have to carry the phone all the way in here! We're right next to each other now!"

"Hush, you'll wake up Pearly!"

"_Hold it! _Enough!" Miles groaned. "It's OK, Wright. Let her stay. It may not hurt to have a woman's perspective on the matter."

"Alright, fine. Maya, Edgeworth is all bummed out because he's in love with Franziska and she seems to feel the same way back but she just got on a plane to go back to Germany anyway."

"So why can't he go visit her? He's loaded, right? You've seen that red sports car he drives. He can cough up the fare for a plane ticket. He's not a cheapo like _you_ are!"

"I am _not_ a cheapskate because I refused to buy that red-headed hellion a _$3000 camer_a!"

"You still made her pay for her own plate. Not exactly gentlemanly of you!"

"I paid for you and Pearls! _And_ I supply your daily three burger a day habit! Money doesn't grow on trees, Maya! What more do you _want from my life_?"

"Silence!" Miles ordered. "You two have all night to bicker at each other. Could we please get back to _me_ now?"

"Sorry," Phoenix and Maya mumbled in sheepish unison.

"OK, Mr. Edgeworth, if you really want to know what I think, as a woman, here goes. If you love Ms. Von Karma so much, why are you still here _talking to us_ about it then, rather than _proving it to her_?"

"Yeah Edgeworth. If you're so worried that she's gone for good, why on earth didn't you go chase after her?"

"Mr. Edgeworth," Maya said quietly, sounding uncharacteristically serious for once. "A woman shouldn't have to _nearly die_ in order _for a man to realize how he feels about he_r, or to _finally hear him tell her_ _how he feels_. When you love somebody, _you don't let them go_. You _fight_ for them."

"It's true, Edgeworth," Phoenix agreed. "You'll never forgive yourself if you don't follow your heart on this one. So what if she got on a plane to Germany? It's not like you haven't taken off to Europe on a whim before, right? What's stopping you from joining her?"

Miles was amazed at how simple the answer sounded. Why hadn't he begged her not to go? Or gotten on the plane with her? Because he was a damned _coward_, that was why. And because of his foolish _pride_. He hadn't wanted to appear to be the needy or overly emotional love-fool.

Which was utterly ridiculous. After all, if he _wasn't_ a fool, how else could he explain the fact that he was still on the telephone listening to the inane ramblings of a couple, (albeit one in denial), while they argued about trivialities, instead of in Franziska's arms?

"Thank you, both of you." Miles said humbly, sincerely touched. "I really appreciate you two taking the time away from your lover's quarrel to try to play _Masters and Johnson_ with me. Now if you two will excuse me, I have a plane to catch…"

"_Lovers quarrel_? Edgeworth, what the hell?!"

"Nick! Why does he think that about us? What did you _say_ to him before I picked up the phone?!"

"_Objection_! _Me_?! You're the one with the cousin who goes around telling the whole world that we're _Special Someones_! Explain to me where she got that idea from, Miss Eavesdrops on my personal calls!"

It took them a while to realize that Miles had hung up.


	5. No Longer A Girl, Just ALL Woman

**Chapter Five: ****No Longer a Girl, Just ALL Woman**

_March 25, Germany, 7:45 am_

Slightly bleary-eyed from the 23-hour flight (the only standby that had been available), Miles exited the airport taxi that had just dropped him off at the Von Karma estate. He stood there on the driveway of the place where he'd spent the majority of his childhood. Since moving to the States and setting up residence in his spacious, modern penthouse in Los Angeles, he hadn't paid much mind to his old home in Germany. Now, having spent the time away and looking upon the manor with fresh eyes, he felt a grudging appreciation at its splendor, where his earliest memories of Franziska had been established; many bittersweet since they had also included Manfred Von Karma.

The stone mansion, which had been built in 1822, sat on the 37-acre property, exhibiting a luxurious ambiance in Neoclassical style. The stately driveway led up to the 36 foot high fountain in front of it. At the side of the manor was an old coach house which had long since been converted into a garage suitable for four cars. The pretty garden with centuries-old oak trees featured an enormous pond, accompanied by another smaller pond with a little island. The lighting system around the grounds created a wonderful atmosphere after dark, although right now, in the daytime, of course, they were off, so the warm glow of the morning sun over the horizon was the illuminator of residence's resplendent beauty.

Miles took a deep breath, strode up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. He still had his keys, of course, as this had been the place he'd stayed at when he had last gone to Europe, but as he was catching Franziska unawares, he didn't want to startle her with his unannounced presence and have her mistake him for an intruder.

He was the surprised one, however, when the door opened a moment later not by Hans, their longtime butler, but by Franziska herself.

She stood there in a silky silver robe, glossy hair slightly tousled from bed-head as he'd obviously awoken her from her slumber, her sleepy grey eyes immediately widening in surprise as she stared at her unexpected guest.

"Miles?" She gasped, a hand fluttering to her throat. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I came to lay my sword at your feet, milady," Miles replied with his customary courtroom bow. He looked deeply into her beautiful eyes, which were now sparkling with delight at the sight of him now that the initial shock had worn off. He took her hand and pressed his lips upon it, giving her a roguish grin. "And to safely return your heart to your hands, along with my own."

Tears of happiness shone in Franziska's eyes as she quickly stepped aside and ushered him into the foyer, shutting the heavy wooden door behind them.

"I'm so happy to see you," she whispered, reaching up a trembling hand to his face and smoothing an errant strand of hair off his cheek. "I just need to touch you, to prove to myself that I'm not dreaming."

"Franziska Von Karma," he whispered back, threading his fingers through her hair, worshiping her face with feather light kisses. "If this is a dream, don't wake me up." He caught her lips in a searing kiss that left her breathless, then nibbled from her lips to her jaw and then down her throat. Franziska tipped her head back and made a low growling sound in her throat. He bit her. She moaned, pressing her body against his intuitively and wrapped her arms tightly around his back.

"The servants," he murmured against the satiny skin of her ear. "Where are they?"

"It's – their day off…" she rasped, barely able to form the words as he nibbled on her lobe.

"And a very lucky one for us indeed then." He smiled at her with a devilish glint in his eye as he deftly untied her robe and slid it off her shoulders, letting it whisper to the parquet hallway floor in a satin pool at her feet, leaving her standing before him in nothing but a black slip nightie, before fiercely claiming her lips again.

She answered him with a sensual moan which caused him to kiss her even deeper. Without breaking the kiss, in one swoop Miles lifted her up on his powerful body. She wrapped her legs around his torso instinctively and cupped her hands around his neck. Franziska shivered with anticipation as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. His eyes never left her face. They held an expression she hadn't seen ever before from him, and it shook her to the core. Intense. Sexual. Animalistic. She almost feared him but not in the true sense of the word. She was scared that once she became intimate with Miles, she would fall for him more than she already had.

Once they got to her room, he kicked the door shut, then laid her down onto the soft comforter and stretched his long body next to hers. With his head over hers, he stared deeply into her eyes as he tenderly caressed her cheek with his hand. Every fiber in her body was awake as he ran his hand down the length of her body, each touch sending excitement coursing through her bloodstream. She shuddered as he dragged his lips across her cheek and gently kissed the side of her mouth. She was in awe over his tender handling of her, and she turned her mouth to his, tasting the sweet essence of his lips that stroked hers with an intensity she'd never experienced before. She ran her fingers through his soft hair as he continued ravishing her lips with his as soft moans—which she had no control over—escaped her mouth. He moved on top of her pulling her legs up and wrapping them around his waist.

She closed her eyes so she could better feel his touch on her lips. His kiss deepened as his mouth tasted and pulled on her lips making them swollen. He was kissing her as if she was all his, as if he was taking possession over her which turned her on even more. She met his kisses with more vigor and hunger. The power he had over her was causing her to lose her mind and heart to him with each caress of his lips.

"How I've been yearning and craving you, Franziska," he said in an intoxicating tone. "I promise to show you just how much."

The passion which erupted in her veins charged through at the intensity of his words. She grasped his shoulders tight to hold onto the roller coaster ride he had her on. His lips sought hers once more, claiming power over them and her heart, which was racing with raw pleasure.

"What are you doing to me, woman?" he asked in an aroused tone as he planted kisses on her neck. "I've wanted to taste your beautiful, succulent lips again since the day you left me at the airport. All the way over here, I couldn't sleep without thinking about kissing you and hearing your soft moans as I make love to you."

"Oh, Miles. Please don't stop," she moaned.

"I don't intend to." His tongue probed into her mouth as he pushed her back on the bed, her legs straddling around his waist once more. "I want to satisfy you in every way possible. I want to know every inch of your body. I want to know where all of your hot spots are and find the ones that never existed until I provoked them, making them mine. Do you hear me, Franziska?"

"Yes," she managed to stumble out.

The grandfather clock in the room struck eight o'clock. They both turned their attention to the clock and then back to each other.

"You know, it's a good thing the servants aren't here today, _meine dame_," he said with a wicked grin, looking down at her with such an intense expression that her right leg began to shake uncontrollably. That only happened when she was nervous. The anticipation of what making love with Miles was going to do to her body was mind-boggling. "Because the sounds I'm going to arise out of you would scandalize them for _years_ to come."

"You're feeling pretty confident in your abilities, _Herr_ Edgeworth," Franziska teased with a sultry smile.

Instead of replying, Miles crawled on top of her with the full force of his weight and claimed Franziska's lips once more, feasting on her mouth, licking and nibbling her lips as if he'd caught his prey and couldn't get enough to please his appetite. There wasn't a part of her mouth he hadn't touched, and her kisses matched his with the same hunger and need.

Their clothing seemed to melt away so their bare skin could touch. He groaned at how good her body felt against him, her hands cupping his head and her passionate moans in his ear. He realized she'd already seduced him in a way that had nothing to do with sex. She had full control over his heart and mind. She stirred his emotions in ways he didn't have words for yet, but for now, he wanted to please her and hear more of her breathless moans that he had provoked.

Prior to losing her virginity the year before to an old law school classmate at a drunken party, Franziska had read the reports on mating heat—the list of sensations felt, the intensity of it—and it hadn't prepared her for this. Not this. The wildness rising inside her, crashing over her and obliterating any control she could have thought to possess. All she could do was feel.

"Miles, I vanquish all control to you," she said submissively, her normally controlling nature obliterated in exchange for passion. "In this bedroom – if nowhere else – you are the one in charge. I just… want you to still respect me after all is said and done…and hopefully still want me."

He looked down at her, his determined expression now replaced by one of tenderness. "_Meine dame_, I would never not want you. I'll want you tomorrow when I wake up, Franziska. I'll want you tomorrow morning when I come home and see you again, next month, the year after." His voice was low and sexy, his eyes telling of his desire. "You're all I will ever want." He slanted his mouth to capture hers again and kissed her wildly.

Franziska drew a breath and held it. She took a hold of his face, breaking their kiss and gently pushing him back so she could look at him. Then their eyes met, and a sacred, beautiful stillness descended upon them. Over their moment, over this joining. It was as if all separation or the possibility of it vanished, and even though he wasn't inside her yet—even though her whole body was trembling—they were one. They were already one.

"I'm in love with you," Miles murmured softly, brushing her lips against his. She wrapped her slender, toned arms about his neck. "God help you and me both, but I am so damn in love with you."

She clung to him then, their bodies moving as one, time was not moving at all. It could have been a lifetime; she didn't know, and at that very second she didn't care.

Slowly but vibrantly her senses came alive again.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear, as she clung to his body.

That was all it took. Those three little words. Pleasure came over them concurrently. They were looking into each other's eyes as simultaneous explosions of ecstasy overcame them both, and neither one of them looked away.


	6. Miles Edgeworth, Genius Defense Attorney

**Chapter Six: ****Miles Edgeworth, Genius Defense Attorney?**

_February 8, Hotti Clinic, ICU, 12:00 pm_

With great trepidation, Miles headed towards the patient room he'd been directed to by the nurse in the Intensive Care Unit. How he hated hospitals! They were third on his aversion list, right after earthquakes and elevators. To him they only symbolized pain and death and the pungent smell of the place always made him queasy. He tended to avoid them like the plague. How was it he was forced to return to this dreadful place for the second time in less than a year, both times for people he desperately cared for and couldn't imagine his life without?

Of course, he'd rather _die_ than tell that to Wright. If his friend ever found out that he'd chartered a private jet right after he'd gotten Butz's hysterical late night call, he'd surely tease him mercilessly.

He turned the doorknob and entered Phoenix's room, absently noting the simple furnishings: a wooden table on the left of the stretcher, a couple of chairs on either side of the bed and a glass sliding window with a view of the outside of the buildings surrounding the hospital.

Of course, what had his _full_ attention was the sight of the coughing, spiky-haired man sitting up in the bed, hunched over and frowning at the laptop in front of him.

_Humph_! Miles thought, simultaneously relieved _and_ peeved. _While the patient doesn't look to be in any condition to be making fun of _**_anything_**_, he most surely also doesn't look like he's knocking on heaven's door, the way that histrionic buffoon Butz led me to believe!_

Surprise was stamped across Phoenix's features as he looked up then and saw his friend standing in the doorway. He started to speak, but suddenly his body began to shake as he went into coughing fit. Winded with exhaustion, he flopped back down on his pillow and silently waved at Miles in welcome.

"Wright." Miles nodded in greeting, even as he stifled the urge to hug – and possibly then throttle – his friend for nearly giving him a coronary.

But of course, being a logical man of law, he would never commit such an action, for it would be done purely in vain.

After all, they were in a _hospital_, with _resuscitating_ equipment!

"Edgeworth!" Phoenix's dark blue eyes were the size of saucers as he stared at him. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought you and Franziska were happily shacked up in Europe!"

"Working international investigations and for Interpol – not at the same residence! – should anyone else ever ask," Miles said wryly. "That insider information is strictly for you and Miss Fey's knowledge only, thank you."

"Whatever you say, buddy." Phoenix nodded solemnly, well aware of how he and Franziska were with their jealously guarded privacy.

"Anyhow, to answer your question, Wright, I took a break from said duties because I was awakened in the middle of the night by a phone call from a hysterical friend of ours who led me to believe that you were on the brink of death."

Phoenix's shoulders drooped as he grimaced. "Let me guess…this friend wouldn't happen to occasionally be referred to as _Harry Butz_ now, would he?"

"Yes, although the man of many names rather insistently informed me that he now wants to be known as Laurice Deauxnim." Miles lips twitched with amusement.

"Heh, heh…there's a bit of a story to that. I have quite a bit to get you caught up on. Why don't you pull up a chair?"

As Miles sat down, he noticed, for the first time, the Demon Warding hood tossed carelessly at the foot of the bed.

"Wright, what in God's name is that ridiculous looking contraption?"

"Oh, ya, that's another tale entirely. It's the Demon Warding hood Iris gave me. I was wearing it up until you came in. It was making my head itch…plus it totally flattens my spikes."

"I didn't think there was any force of nature that could achieve _that_, Wright," Miles quipped, smirking when he saw Phoenix's scowl. "So tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Well, I feel dizzy, my ears are ringing, my throat burns, and my head is on fire. Other than that, I'm fine, thanks."

"_Right._I spoke with the doctors. They told me that you'll need to stay here for two days and get bed rest."

"They told me that too, but I don't need to stay here that long. I told them I'm completely fine!" The minute Phoenix finished the sentence he went into another coughing fit.

"Oh yes. You're doing splendidly."

Once the coughing episode had subsided, Phoenix let out a deep breath and flopped back against his pillow again, shutting his eyes. "I can't stay here Edgeworth! There's so much I need to do! I need to find make sure Maya is alright, find Ms. Deauxnim's murderer, locate Pearls and defend Iris…"

"What you need to do," Miles said firmly. "_Is get better_, Wright! You can barely _talk_, never mind _walk_! You're not a superhero and it's a miracle you're alive after falling off an _80 foot high burning bridge_! You're lucky you didn't catch pneumonia, or your death! I've never known you to be this foolish before. What the _hell_ were you thinking?!"

Phoenix's eyes remained closed, and he only managed to whisper one word. "_Maya_."

Miles sighed. Maya Fey. Of course. The only person in the world who could make his semi-rational (on a _good_ day) friend lose his head entirely. The besotted fool loved that girl so much he had first nearly let a murderer walk for her, and now had nearly died for her. Miles was no stranger to love anymore…he would do anything for Franziska. Although he wasn't sure _he_ would have Phoenix's crazy fortune and survive such a spill with only a cold – if at all! _He_ would have surely suffered at least a few broken or amputated limbs! Naturally he hoped and prayed he'd never have to prove his devotion with such drastic means. Was he wimp because he preferred the much safer champagne and flowers path instead?

"I know you love her, Wright," he said gently. "But you're no good to Miss Fey, or anyone, as a dead man. Sometimes…it may be better to lead with your head than your heart."

Phoenix open up one dark-circled eye. "You mean like _you_ do?"

"Like _any_ logical person, Wright."

Phoenix opened both his eyes then, the bags underneath them proof of his sleepless state over his current plight, which Miles knew naught about. They were now glaring holes into the prosecutor as he seethed, "Edgeworth, you freakin' _hypocrite_. You and Franziska wouldn't even _be_ together now if you hadn't followed me and Maya's advice to _follow your heart_…and _her,_back to Germany!"

Miles groaned inwardly and felt his face turning the same color as his magenta suit. He couldn't think of any argument, logical or illogical, to counter that statement. Especially when he knew his friend was right. He and Franziska indubitably owed a lot to the two in lovebirds in denial – although he'd noticed Wright hadn't even bothered refuting the allegation this time – and someday, somehow, they would find a way to repay that priceless endeavor.

"You got me there, Wright," he said reverently. "It was never my intention to try to make you over in my own image, or to not give credit where it is due pertaining to you and Miss Fey's assistance with getting Franziska and I together. Our sincere thanks for that. I merely wanted to ensure that you'd be more careful in your actions henceforth, as neither one of us would ever want to lose our favorite courtroom adversary."

Phoenix's defensive expression softened. "You're welcome, Edgeworth, don't sweat it. I know if the roles were reversed, you'd do the same for me. I shouldn't have jumped down your throat like that. I know you're just looking out for me. It's just hard to keep it together with this particular predicament… "

"I don't know much about your current situation," Miles admitted. "I have to go meet up with Larry at the detention center after this, and we both know however noble his intentions, he's not exactly the most credible source of information. If _you_ are willing to tell me about it, I'm willing to offer you my assistance in any way I can."

"Really?" Phoenix eyed him with a mixture of skepticism and hopefulness. "You aren't pulling my leg here?"

"I thought you'd know me well enough by now, Wright." Miles crossed his arms and tapped his finger. "I rarely make jokes, and especially not about matters of such importance. Now, you can tell me what's been going on in my absence, or I shall take my leave."

"Wait, don't go! Sheesh, I'll tell you!"

Phoenix went on to explain the details of events that had transpired: the medium special training course Maya had wanted at Hazakura Temple, meeting Sister Bikini and Elise Deauxnim and the other subsequent details leading up to her murder.

Miles listened intently, jotting down the pertinent information on his organizer. When Phoenix got to mentioning Iris, he noted an odd hesitation in his friend's voice, and he would pause often as if trying to figure out a complexing puzzle. He recalled Butz mentioning the name to him during the phone call. That, combined with the defense attorney's flummoxed expression as he spoke of her, greatly piqued his particular interest as well. He underlined _Iris_ twice on his pad next to a large question mark.

Phoenix finished the summary of him finding Elise Deauxnim's body and his consequent fall into the raging river.

"Well, this is quite the quandary you've gotten yourself into, Wright," Miles said dryly. "The Matt Engarde case seems like a real pip in comparison. And you said Miss Fey is still trapped on the other side of the Dusky Bridge?"

"Yes she is, and Pearls seem to have disappeared, too. I hope she's OK. She's going to be devastated when she finds out about Maya and her favorite children's author."

_I hope they're alright, too. Those poor girls have been through enough. To think they had to be there when this horrific event occurred…_

"This is a most captivating case, Wright. I'm going to go check out Hazakura Temple myself after I go meet Butz at the detention center. I will keep you updated on what's happened since you were brought here. I'll do my best to find out how Maya and Pearl are doing, as well. Thank you for the information." Miles put away his organizer and pen and rose to his feet.

"No problem. Hey, before you go, here, take these with you." The bedridden defense attorney reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a couple of items.

The first item he handed over was a green rock shaped like a number nine. Miles blinked a few times and held it up to the light. It looked like something out of an alien Sci-Fi movie. _Is this thing actually glowing? No, impossible, it can't be _**_glowing_**_!_

"It's a magatama," Phoenix explained, grinning at the prosecutor's perplexed expression. "Essentially it's a rock that allows you to see inside people's hearts. When someone is keeping a secret, or hiding something from you, with that stone, you will see silver chains appear, and on the chains, red locks. They're called psyche-locks."

_Psycho-locks? How appropriate. This whole concept Wright is trying to sell me on is absolutely psycho!_

"No, seriously," Phoenix chuckled, catching Mile's dubious look. "Depending on how many secrets the person is keeping, or how well-guarded, there will be more locks. The most I've ever seen is five. Breaking the locks can help you get vital information out of people, which can be used _in court_. When you see the locks, just present the magatama and question the person. You usually need to present some evidence to get the locks to actually break. Are you following me?"

Miles nodded after a moment's pause. "Yes, I believe so." _This cold must have really affected Wright's brain if he's spouting off such nonsense. As if anyone could seriously see into the hearts of others! Outrageous! Although if this thing actually _**_were _**_real, it would certainly explain how a reckless rookie attorney could have repeatedly beat me _**_and _**_both Von Karmas in court!_

He frowned. When you actually thought of it that way, he wasn't sure if believing that Wright had beat him in court because he'd had some supernatural, advantageous edge made him feel better or worse!

"One more thing." Phoenix dropped the other item into his hand.

Miles stared down at the small gold-colored item in his hand. It was engraved with the scale of justice and so well polished that it shone brightly even in the dim room light. "Wright, whatever is the meaning of this?"

"You know what that badge means, Edgeworth. It means the wearer swears to believe in people, right up until the bitter end. I'm giving this to you because I'm actually in the position to need to take you up on your offer to help in any way you could."

Miles stared incredulously at the other man. Surely he was misunderstanding him. Phoenix Wright couldn't seriously be asking him to –

"Yes, Edgeworth." The psychic lawyer appeared to be reading his mind as usual, even without the psycho-lock reader in possession. "I'm asking you to defend Iris."

"Wright, I…" Miles was speechless. What he was being asked to do could end with serious legal repercussions for both of them. His friend's fever obviously had affected his ability to think straight. The man looked like he could barely remain conscious as they spoke.

"_Please_, Miles." Phoenix's expression was a mixture of earnestness…and some sort of pain. And not just the physical kind.

Miles could tell his friend was suffering in silence about something pertaining to this Iris woman, despite his feelings for Maya. It was both bewildering and intriguing.

"Alright," Miles nodded. "I'll do as you ask, Wright. But I really must get going now. Take care."

"Thank you. You're the best, Edgeworth," Phoenix said drowsily, closing his eyes and falling back onto his pillow.

Miles left the room, shutting the door behind him while still shaking his head at the unexpected turn of events. He couldn't believe that he, a prosecutor whose job it was to _doubt_ people, and expose the truth, had agreed to defend someone. While it could be interesting to stand on the opposite side of the courtroom and experience what it was like to be a defense attorney – his late father Gregory had been an incredible one – it was still the most _insane, impractical_ and overall _**reckless **_thing he'd _ever_ contemplated doing; even more so than getting on that plane! Miles couldn't believe that he, the so-called former Demon Prosecutor, could ultimately be such a soft touch.

It was the use of his first name that had sold it. Phoenix Wright _never_ called him Miles, proof that he was entirely stirred out of the norm. The defense attorney truly was at the end of his tether if he had been resorted to asking this monumental of a favor. Above all, the man was his childhood friend. Aside from Franziska, possibly his _best_ friend. It was impossible for Miles to deny such an obviously desperate, heart-felt request.

_Jeez, two groundbreaking revelations in one day. I concede to being a defense attorney,_**_and _**_the fact that _**_Phoenix Wright is my best friend_**_? How the _**_hell _**_did I allow _**_that _**_to happen?!_


	7. Get Your Armor

**Chapter Seven: ****Get Your Armor**

_Feb 10, Très Bien Restaurant, 6:30 pm_

The two prosecutors sat silently at the table of Très Bien. They had been the first to arrive at the French restaurant for the dinner celebration proposed by Dick Gumshoe after the Hazakura Temple trial. They were currently awaiting the arrival of the Detective and his new wife, Maggey Byrde, Phoenix, Pearl and Maya, and Larry Butz, who Miles fervently hoped had since ceased his pitiful weeping, as the man had left a puddle of tears in his wake at the courthouse.

Despite putting on a normal front in the presence of their friends at the courthouse, Franziska had barely looked at or spoken to him the entire ride to the place, and hadn't said a word to him in the last fifteen minutes. Miles hadn't the foggiest notion of why, and it was beginning to unnerve him. He desperately wanted to ensure any discrepancies between them would be resolved before the others arrived. He was by and large still an intensely private person, as was Franziska, so he knew she whole-heartedly appreciated and supported the discretion act of them behaving as if they were merely colleagues in front of mixed company.

Living in Europe with the love of his life meant that he'd been able to keep his affairs mostly confidential – not that he was ashamed of being with Franziska, far from it! – and not let anyone back in the States know of his personal relationship. Oh, Wright knew, of course, and consequently Maya did as well, as he'd kept in touch with both of them via phone and email, but nobody else. The surprisingly _still-unofficial_ duo had managed to be even more astoundingly discreet with their secret knowledge. Which was just as well. There was no reason for the others to know anything at the moment. It was none of their business.

"I know Gumshoe offered to foot the bill tonight, but you know we can't let him do that, right? The man makes in a _year_ what you and I do in a _month_! I think we should at least offer to cover our own tabs, Franziska. Although, from what Miss Fey and Wright told me about this place's cuisine, I believe Monsieur _Jean Armstrong_ should be the one to pay _us_ for consuming his apparently substandard fare," Miles joked, looking expectantly across the table at his dining companion.

"Hmmmm…." Franziska said noncommittally, while keeping her eyes glued to her menu and refusing to look at him. Confused, Miles tried again to make conversation.

"I sincerely hope Butz is done throwing himself that pity party he forced us to attend at the courthouse," he said with forced joviality. "But I think we managed to convince the poor man that he's not completely useless and is at least an adequate artist."

Still no reply from his lover.

"Well, we can at least accredit him for having good taste in artistic inspirations, _meine dame_. After all, he did beg to make a portrait of _you_!"

Still no response from Franziska. She remained sitting there in sullen silence from him across the table, arms crossed protectively across her chest as she still avoided looking at him.

Miles was officially fed up by now. They had been together nearly a year now, living in domestic bliss in Germany. It'd been the most gratifying time of his life, and he'd assumed hers as well. Franziska completed him in every way he could ever have dreamed of, mentally, emotionally and physically. She had never been the clingy type to make a fuss when at times his investigations took him around the globe for weeks at time, like his last case in Zheng Fa had. In turn he'd been very supportive of her whenever she had international assignments with Interpol – which she'd taken leave from in order to fly back to the States and prosecute in the court. They had always returned home to each other despite the long absences that parted them, closer, happier and more in love than ever.

So why was it that after almost _12 months_ of intellectually stimulating days and fiery, passionate nights, the woman he loved felt like she couldn't discuss her grievances with him and was instead opting for this cold, _maddening_ silent treatment?! Enough was enough!

Without further warning, Miles slammed his hand down on the table between them, courtroom style, uncaring that the action made both Franziska, and the silverware on it, jump slightly.

"Have I displeased you somehow, _meine dame_?" He asked coolly, leaning forward across the table so their noses were nearly touching and she had no choice but to look at him. "I am in the sincerest of hopes that you would take the adult route, should you have a grievance of some sort, and _tell me_ as such, as you always have in the past, as opposed to playing this childish game of trying to make me read your mind."

"Surely you're not such a daft fool that you truly have no inkling of why I would be upset with you, are you, Miles Edgeworth?" She snapped, matching his stern expression with her own glacial one.

_Miles Edgeworth_? She hadn't called him that before they'd gotten together. Something was truly awry here indeed!

"Forgive me, Franziska," Miles deadpanned. "I had to return Wright his _magatama_, so my ability to read people's hearts, or see their _psycholocks_ now, _completely_ eludes me."

"You are unbelievable!" Franziska hissed, her cold glare now replaced by a fiery one of pure fury. "You almost made a complete fool out of me in court yesterday, and you have the nerve to sit here and_make jokes_?"

Miles' mind flashed back to the previous day at the courthouse, when he'd been roped into acting as defense attorney for Wright to defend Iris Hawthorne. Normally he would have rejected such an outlandish request, but his childhood friend had been in the hospital, and under the most extenuating circumstances, how could he have refused the man who had kept him out of prison?

"Are you angry that you were not forewarned that it would be _me _acting as the defense council in court, instead of Wright, when you arrived unexpectedly to prosecute?" He asked mildly.

"Damned right I am angry!" She fumed, a pout marring her pretty face. "I had to square off against my _lover_, _completely unawares,_in court! How could you just have left me with no preamble whatsoever, and risked having me wind up with egg on my face? Whatever would you have done if I hadn't been so quick on my feet to lie to the judge when he asked me if I knew you?"

Miles smirked. At last he understood. So she'd been worried about smearing her perfect professional reputation by being caught off guard. Ah, that infamous Von Karma pride.

However, there was one huge contradiction underneath that perfectionist, arrogant…hell he may as well admit it, _bitch_persona that was Franziska Von Karma. While these predominant traits had softened slightly since she'd been with him, along with the force and frequency of her whippings, but would probably never truly be eliminated.

But neither would her steadfast faithfulness and loyalty.

Regardless of how wounded her pride had been at being kept in the dark and in spite of how outraged she'd been at being left unprepared for him in court, when push had come to shove, she hadn't let her wrath turn her petty and vengeful. She hadn't sold him out. Instead, she had committed _false witness_ to a _court judge_. To protect him. Because despite how much she loved and took pride in her profession, ultimately, she loved _him_ more. Moreover, without being asked to, she'd _proven_ it.

Franziska could be as tempestuous and temperamental as she pleased. He would always find a way to overlook or tolerate that about her, because in the end, the good outweighed the bad. The woman was a keeper.

One he could seriously see himself spending the rest of his life with.

The realization brought a broad smile to his face as he spoke, his tone rich with amusement. "Ah, yes, I do believe your exact words were, '_there is no such weakling as this man among those at the Prosecutor's Office_', were they not? And then you _whipped_ him for good measure to reinforce your point?"

"What would you have liked me to have said instead Miles? 'Oh, of course I know this Genius Prosecutor, he's been sharing my home and my bed for the past year?' Or should I have gone into details of _how well_ I know you and elaborated on the fact that you had me bent over a motor scooter in the park three nights ago?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not." Miles cleared his throat gruffly and tried to squelch the scorching images of said night now flashing through his mind like a neon lit sign. "Might I remind you that it was _I_ who rescued your prized possession from that judge when he demanded it be confiscated from you after you had your little lash attack?"

"Normally I would thank you for that," Franziska grumbled. "But the fact that the man who claims he loves me didn't see fit to tell me he was going to be in court – on the opposite side of it, yet! – still has me too infuriated to be gratuitous with gratitude at this time."

"Franziska, you were away on duty when I got the call from Larry in the middle of the night that Wright had been hospitalized, so I had no opportunity to let you know I was coming back to the States," Miles gently reminded her. "Also, you aren't always immediately accessible when you're away on assignment either. And the _very next morning_ I was no less gobsmacked than you were to see _you _were the prosecutor in the courtroom. With what time did I have to tell you anything? You never told me about _your_ intentions either, yet _I_ am not raking _you_ over the coals or trying to claim you were duplicitous, although I very well could."

"You're right, _liebling_." Franziska turned crimson at his words. "I did not. I was unsure you would approve my overly zealous intent to take one last opportunity to vindicate myself against that fool, Phoenix Wright. _Especially_ since you insist on holding that man in such high esteem and see him as a friend." She smiled guiltily at her boyfriend. "But I wasn't going to keep it a secret from you, Miles. I was going to tell you…_after_ I'd emerged as the victor of that trial against him the way it was intended!"

"And if you hadn't won against him?" Miles grinned and raised an eyebrow at his lover, relieved that the worst appeared to be over.

Franziska flashed him a mischievous smile. "We are a couple, and should have no secrets from each other. I absolutely would have told you if I lost to that fool…_eventually_."

"Well _danke_ for your honesty, however delayed it may have been." He shook his head and chuckled. "It was sort of fun squaring off against you in the courtroom though, _meine dame_. You are a formidable adversary, and it was incredible seeing you in action. I actually do slightly regret not being able to see things through to the end with you though. Ours was a white flag courtroom battle, at best."

"We can pick up where that battle left off when we get home, _liebling_," Franziska gave him a saucy wink. "Say, perhaps, in the boudoir?"

"Get your armor then," Miles flashed her his best shit-eating grin, just as he looked up and saw Gumshoe and Maggey walk in. "Although whenever you and I tend to have _full-body_ combat, are there ever truly any _losers_?"


	8. Maybe, Baby?

**Chapter Eight: ****Maybe, Baby?**

_Von Karma Estate, April 10, 9:00 am_

"Hans!" Franziska called out as she headed down the spiral staircase of the mansion. "Where are you?"

The distinguished silver-haired family butler appeared at the foot of the bannister immediately and bowed to his mistress.

"_Ja, gnädige frau_?"

_"Ich vertraue dir, zum legte eine perfekt banane runter mir die hosen heute abend."_She commanded.

"_Wie bitte, gnädige frau?"_The man's normally decorous air was rattled as he gaped at her.

"_Sind sie schwerhörig_?" Franziska haughtily raised an eyebrow.

_"Was ist der grund, warum willst du es_?" Hans exclaimed. "_Ich bin so verwirrt!"_

"Yes I am certain that forty years of service would reassure me that you and your wife will ensure perfection for the Master's birthday tonight," she replied impatiently. "But I want the details of what's on the menu for final approval now, not later."

"_Ich verstehe nicht dein Englisch mehr besser als dein schreckliche Deutsch!"_Hans cried, and without warning, scurried off to the west wing, towards the kitchen. Moments later, a stout woman with salt and pepper hair pulled back severely into bun appeared before her.

"_Hallo_, Helga," Franziska said coolly, placing a hand on her hip. "I do believe it is time to purchase a hearing aid for your husband. He didn't seem to understand my simple query of what was on the meal menu tonight for Miles' birthday. I am uncertain if he is getting _daft or deaf_ at his old age."

"You were asking Hans about this evening's dinner selection, Madam?" Helga asked in a thick Bavarian accent to her mistress, smoothing down the wrinkles of her starched white apron. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "How incredibly odd. He told me that he was uncertain if either you or he were going slightly mad because he was under the impression that you had said '_I trust you to put a perfect banana down my pants tonight'_. He was absolutely flummoxed at the request because he asked you why you would want such a thing. Then you asked him if he was deaf, and began talking to him in English, which he doesn't speak at all…"

Franziska felt her face reddening as she realized in horror what she had requested of the poor elderly man who had been loyally servicing the Von Karma family since before she'd been born. Out of all the staff, Helga was the only servant who spoke English, and tried to utilize it as much as possible. This was an immense relief to Franziska, whose mother tongue was apparently rustier than she could have ever realized due to her mostly Anglophone lover, her international travel and time in America. It made her wonder what other commands she had unknowingly muddled with the staff all this time as she was no longer perfect at speaking her native German!

Not that she would ever _admit_ that to _the help_…

"So then he got frustrated and said that he didn't understand your English any more than your terrible German," Helga confessed, blushing. "And he ran to fetch me in his stead. My sincerely apologies on behalf of my husband, for any grievances. He is getting on in his years, and surely meant no intentional disrespect, Madam."

"Well, seeing as he's been in faithful service for so long and may just be having an off day, I suppose it doesn't matter what Hans _thought_ he heard. Although, of course, I would _never_ make such a foolish, outlandish request," Franziska declared with a dismissive wave of her hand and clearing her throat. "Helga, I demand nothing short of perfection on this momentous occasion. I want only the best for the Master's birthday dinner tonight. What is on the proposed bill of fare?"

Helga began rattling off the menu. "Euro bass with sage brown butter, gnocchi capers and lemon, pork rillettes with shaved fennel and quince preserves, and five spice smoked cauliflower with leeks, pumpkin seeds, wild rice, grapes, cranberry and soy caramel."

"Hmmm, sounds fine but Miles would undoubtedly prefer on there being some sort of additional vegetable there. I blame his time in California for his healthy kick." Franziska was unable to hide the disdain in her voice.

"How would the Master like roasted Kabocha squash agrodolce with baby kale, pepitas, fig saba and Cambozola cheese, dressed with red wine vinaigrette, served with fresh sourdough?"

"I think he's watching his carbs, so yes to the squash, no to the bread. Especially if you're planning on serving dessert."

"Black forest birthday cake, the Master's favorite." Helga beamed. "Would it better suit the palate if I did the squash with sumach scented yogurt and seed granola shisho?"

"No, the Kabocha with everything else sounded fine," Franziska assured her. "No need to make any other changes except forgoing the bread."

"Five o'clock, Madam?"

"In the main dining hall. Once dinner is served, you are all relieved of your duties for the night."

"_Danke_, Madam." Helga was unable to hide the look of startled pleasure on her face at this benevolent gesture from her employer. "That is most kind of you."

"_Bitte sehr_, Helga." Franziska nodded and then headed to her study.

_We most definitely won't want anyone within ear-shot while I am ensuring that we burn_ _off the sinful calories of that cake_, she added silently, smiling to herself.

Manfred Von Karma had never allowed birthdays to be acknowledged in his household, citing it ludicrous and beyond foolish to celebrate being another year older and that much closer to the grave. Consequently, there had never been any parties, cake or balloons for either Miles or Franziska on their special days growing up, and thus birthdays had been seen as just any other day of the year. Growing up, Franziska had acted as if she shared the same contemptuous notion as her Papa, yet had been unable to suppress the pangs of wistfulness at times when she'd heard school mates serenade the birthday person in the middle of class or see families and friends happily celebrating at restaurants.

Now that her Papa was gone, they were free to do as they pleased, and she was glad to seize any opportunity to let the man who brightened up her world know how much he meant to her.

Franziska was quite excited about Miles' birthday. It would be their second one as a couple and she wanted to make sure her lover's celebration would be a memorable one.

She wanted to mark this year as the one where they made the next step in their relationship.

Franziska had always been a pragmatic, ambitious and driven female. She had never been either a typically dreamy or starry-eyed fanciful girl when it came to love and romance. She had not ever succumbed to foolish daydreams of a huge white wedding or her Prince Charming, or even written her name with the last name of any crushes all through school. Since becoming a prosecutor at the early age of 13, her desirous passions had always been for her work and the law.

But that was then. This was now. Suddenly all that had changed.

Earlier that year, Detective Gumshoe and Maggey Byrde had gotten married. While Franziska had been pleased for the scruffy detective and his partner, she also hadn't been able to escape the pangs of longing inside her as she'd watched the pretty bride glide down the aisle in her white dress. She'd been unable to stop envisioning how she herself would look in similar attire, with her own tall, dark and handsome waiting for her at the other end of that walkway. She couldn't help but be touched by the beautiful event, which had melted much of the ice that normally guarded her heart.

She _had_, however, managed to maintain her dignity and refrained from sobbing into her bouquet, unlike her fellow bridesmaid, that emotional wreck, Maya Fey, next to her! She had looked across to the groomsmen side, at the girl's aisle escort, assuming she'd see a glint of embarrassment in Phoenix's eyes on Maya's behalf, but had been amazed to see he was discreetly dabbing at his own!

As best man, Miles had remained as composed and serene as ever, his austere expression making it impossible to read his thoughts.

A few months ago, Franziska and Miles had gotten wind that Gumshoe and the former policewoman were now expecting their first child in the next few months. They had immediately shipped over a huge newborn goody basket along with their best wishes, and she had been amazed at how much fun the experience of shopping for the Gumshoe bundle of joy items had been, considering she'd never had, nor desired, to even have a puppy or a houseplant to tend to! At night, she was often awakened by the ticking of her proverbial biological clock, and she would look over at Miles sleeping peacefully beside her, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil and frustrations. When she finally did fall back into slumber, it was with visions of strollers and bridal gowns dancing in her head.

Now, with her 21st birthday around the corner, she'd begun idly doodling _Franziska Edgeworth_ on papers in her study, which she always stashed away in her study drawers so Miles wouldn't see them and get scared off.

As ridiculous as it sounded and as unfathomable as it was to believe, she, Franziska Von Karma, had full blown wedding _and_ baby fever!

So what was she going to do about it? She knew Miles loved her. But why the delay? What on earth was keeping him from popping the question? She was hardly a stranger to him. A near lifetime of knowing him meant she was an expert at knowing, and accepting, all his quirks and idiosyncrasies, like his not-so-secret _Steel Samurai_ obsession and his deathly fear of earthquakes and elevators. They had been together for more than a year now. So what was the fool _waiting_ for?

She had certainly dropped enough hints. After the Gumshoe wedding, she'd mentioned that he would look just as grand in a groom's tuxedo as the detective had, _someday_, and had only received a non-committal _'danke, meine dame'_in response. Whenever they'd gone for walk in a park, and seen children playing with their dogs, she'd commented on how wonderful it would be to see one of them running afoot _someday_, and had only gotten a small half-smile as a reaction.

Franziska was starting to feel as if she was taking leave of her senses.

The other day, while shopping for Mile's present, she'd been hypnotically drawn to the jewelry shop, and had found herself trying on diamond engagement rings, admiring the way they twinkled under the store lights on her elegant fingers. After about half an hour of browsing, one ring in particular had caught her eye.

It was a two-carat heart shaped diamond placed in the center of the ring band with small stones encrusted around the main one. There were accent stone clusters on the platinum ring band as well as medium sized stones on the arm. The sparkle and shine of the central diamond was unmistakable, but it didn't come close to the sparkle in Franziska's eyes as she looked at it. It was perfect. Absolutely made for her. It _called_ to her, beckoned to her. Without thinking, she placed a hold on the item, uncaring of the fact that she had to place a sizable deposit for it.

Now, sitting in her home office, Franziska looked down at her mindless scrawling of _Franziska Von Karma-Edgeworth_ and _Franziska Hildeberta Edgeworth_ and realized she'd also been jotting down_Gregory Franz Edgeworth_ and _Mila Manfreida Edgeworth_ before she stopped herself and threw down her pen in disgust.

_Now I've been resorted to writing down potential baby names_, she thought gloomily. _What on earth has happened to me? How can one man have so much control over my heart, my desires,_**_and_**_my mind?_

In an attempt to escape her thoughts, she reached for the phone and dialed Miles' number. He'd been away on business travels for the past few weeks and while she normally didn't like to disturb him at work, she wanted to confirm that he would be back in time for dinner that night.

"Hello?"

Franziska stared at the receiver in disbelief. Rather than hearing her beloved's deep baritone on the other end of line, a chirpy-voiced _female_ had answered the phone instead!

"I'm looking for Miles Edgeworth?" She said hesitantly, wondering if she had misdialed.

"Who's this?" The voice asked.

_"_Who the hell is_this?"_ Franziska snapped, while all the while her mind was screaming, _and__why are you answering my lover's cell?!_


	9. The Panty-Dropping Prosecutor

**Chapter Nine: ****The Panty-Dropping Prosecutor**

"Give me that!" Franziska suddenly heard Miles' agitated voice in the background before he spoke directly into the phone. "Miles Edgeworth speaking."

"Greetings, _liebling_," she managed to say pleasantly, even though she was inwardly fuming. "I hope I'm not _interrupting_ anything?"

"No worries, I will always make time for _meine dame_," he assured her.

"Me being your lady is knowledge that seems to elude a few," Franziska intoned with mock sweetness. "It appears the strange girl on the line was unaware of my identity? Do you have that many women calling you regularly? I inquired if I had caught you at a bad time as you seemed too busy to answer your own phone?"

"Of course not!" Miles groaned. "I just don't make my subordinates privy to my private affairs unless absolutely necessary." He then attempted to muffle his next words but she heard the dangerous note to his voice nevertheless. "So help me Kay Faraday, if _I ever catch you filching my phone again_…"

"I told you I was the Great Thief, _Yatagarasu_!" Crowed Kay, whose voice Franziska recognized from earlier. "It took you this long to notice? I swiped it _an hour ago_!"

"You're supposed to steal _the truth_! _Not_ my cell phone!" Miles sounded exasperated. "Now could you go get a Swiss Roll or something please? I need some privacy for a few moments."

"No problem, Mr. Edgeworth. I'll get lost. But I'm kind of short a few dollars. Can you help me out here?"

Miles muttered unintelligibly under his breath. "Here, take this ten."

"Thanks! But hey, what about Gummy? Can you give me some money so I can get him one too?" Kay needled.

"No! Let him buy his own snacks," Miles grumbled.

"Well, I'm sure he would if you _paid_ him more! Come on, I've got to get him one, too, or else he's going to guilt me into sharing mine, as he undoubtedly will whine that he's always starving because he's living off nothing but instant noodles!"

"I am _not_ the food bank, Kay!"

"Don't be such a meanie! Give me money for Gummy or I'll just stand here and force you have an audience while you have _phone sex_ with that sultry-sounding German lady!"

"That's Ms. Von Karma to you!" Miles retorted. "Here, take this twenty. And I want my change back this time!"

"Thanks Mr. Edgeworth! You're awesomesauce!"

"Yesterday, I was _amazeballs_," Miles confided to Franziska once it appeared his assistant was out of ear-shot, in a reluctantly amused tone. "And that was because I bought her lunch. The girl thinks I'm a walking ATM, apparently! Good grief, now I know how Wright feels about the expense of supplying his assistant's bottomless burger diet!"

"She sounds awfully fond of you," Franziska observed, a hint of misgiving in her voice.

"You've met her before," Miles reminded her. "As a child, and then again in Los Angeles, when you were investigating Tsubasa Kagome's murder for Interpol. We've both known the cheeky little imp since she was a 10-year-old whippersnapper who blew her nose in my cravat! She's naught but a child."

"Oh yes, the little raven-haired hissing cat of a girl now turned Ninja? I remember now. I also recall she's a comely teenager at the present, and more woman than child."

"Regardless, the girl-child is still a minor, and my assistant, _nothing more_," Miles stated firmly. "Besides, she's 17, so completely illegal. Not to mention way too immature and young for me, even if I wasn't already spoken for, which we both know I am."

"That didn't stop Phoenix Wright," Franziska mumbled, hating herself for feeling so insecure and vulnerable but unable to help herself.

It was one thing when she and Miles were apart due to business, quite another when he was away from her _and_ in the company of an attractive female. One who sounded quite familiar with him!

"Kay and I are in a completely different league than Wright and Miss Fey," Miles snickered. "My relationship with her is _completely_ a professional one. With the other two, although their mutual ardor is apparent to everybody within vicinity except themselves, _four years later_, Wright has _yet_ to man up and declare his affections to her. Or vice versa! And incidentally, Miss Fey is no longer a teenager. She's turning 21 soon, and when Wright rung me to wish me a Happy Birthday, he also wanted to find out if I'd be attending the little birthday gathering he's throwing for her next weekend. I told him I'd be there."

"You're coming back home tonight, and then jetting off to the States _again_ in a week's time?" Franziska was unable to keep the dismayed disappointment out of her voice.

"Yes, that's something I actually wanted to speak to you about further that when I come home this evening," Miles told her. "I very much look forward to _unwrapping my birthday present_."

Pushing aside the nagging feeling of uncertainty his words had just invoked, Franziska felt a surge of heat course through her at the unmistakable double entendre.

"Your sumptuous birthday feast will be at five o'clock sharp," she purred into the receiver. "Your _sinful_ dessert will follow immediately afterward."

* * *

"A toast to the birthday boy!" Franziska declared, clinking her crystal goblet against her lover's. "_Prost_! Too many more to come, and to being reinstated as prosecutor again two days ago!"

"The longest three days of my life!" He smirked, but they both knew how agonizing those days had been, and how overjoyed and fortunate they were that things had been resolved so quickly. "And might I add, that dinner was sublime, _meine dame_," Miles told his dining companion, leaning back in his wing-back dining chair. "I appreciate all the efforts you put into organizing this. I shall be sure to let Helga know she's simply outdone herself this time."

"Helga? What makes you think I didn't whip up this grand feast myself?" Franziska joked, reaching over and refilling both their glasses with the Boërl &amp; Kroff Brut champagne she'd purchased for the occasion.

"You are too refined a lady to sully your hands in such a manner," Miles teased. "I've known you nearly my whole life, _meine dame_. While you are a woman of many skills, domestic ones are not amongst them. Don't you remember the time you offered to help Helga with dinner? She asked you to blend the salad, so you threw it in the blender? That night we had salad soup!"

"Give over! I was four!"

"_Teen." _Miles smirked. "_14_, _meine dame_. I was there! Believe me, I remember _everything_."

_Curse his eidetic memory!_ Franziska scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. Besides, _he_ was hardly one to talk! The man couldn't cook to save his life, and would probably burn boiled water; he had a manservant tending to his every need at his L.A. penthouse for that exact reason. So she wasn't a master chef in the kitchen. So what? Was that all it took to be a good wife and mother? She could _learn_ to be a domestic goddess, if that's what it took, should that be what the _dummkopf_ was looking for in his life partner!

If all else failed, what else were in-house chefs and servants _for_?!

"Please stop shooting death rays at me Franziska!" Miles chortled, noticing the petulant glare that remained on her pretty face. "Believe me, I'm only jesting. I would rather have a woman who better whets my appetite in the boudoir than in the kitchen, _any day_."

Franziska perked up at these words, replacing her sulk with a sexy smile. "I have no qualms being your _slave_ in that domain tonight, birthday boy."_Or any other night, for the rest of my life._

"Music to my ears," Miles winked. "Oh, before I forget, _Uncle Ray_ sends a hug. Also, Kay was terribly apologetic if her silly prank earlier today caused any strife between us. She was quite embarrassed that she didn't recognize your voice. She sends her warmest regards."

"That's fine. But I still think she may have a crush on you," Franziska insisted, stabbing at her delectable slice of black forest cake as if she were killing it rather than eating it. "She wouldn't be the first teenage girl to fall victim to your masculine wiles. Didn't you tell me that Phoenix used to rib you about the teenaged Ema Skye being an Edgeworth fan girl as well?"

"_Masculine wiles_?" Miles chucked and shook his head. "I am truly flattered that you believe I really inspire this sort of frothing desire from the under aged female masses. However, I think Wright just claimed that in order get me back for all the times I'd goaded him about his pangs for his then-teenage office assistant."

"Not just teenage girls, Miles. A little birdy told me about a certain fetching flight attendant, Rhoda Teneiro and a beauteous Lauren Paups also being amongst your admirers," Franziska laughed. "Finally, last but not least, at press time, Ms. Wendy Oldbag is still president of the _Edgey-poo_fan club and she's well past the legal age."

"I must order Gumshoe to cease confabulating with Kay and then bending your ear with this mundane gossip! As for Oldbag, she's closer to the _dinosaur_ age; she could easily be my grandmother!" Miles barely repressed a shudder at the mention of the lecherous old woman who had been stalking him for several years.

He'd completely disregarded the mention of the other pulchritudinous pair of women she'd named, although she knew it was based entirely on unawareness rather than an attempt at obstruction, Franziska noted. She'd known Miles long enough to know that he was completely oblivious to his scads of female admirers, and up until her, had only shown a passion for law and little else. Her father had certainly raised quite the pair of tunnel-vision workaholics. It was a miracle that she and Miles had even been able to look up from the books to finally see and discover _each other_, despite knowing one another all their lives. And look how long _that_ had still taken!

Franziska certainly couldn't fault any woman for having panty-dropping, lusty thoughts about her lover. On top of having a powerful, sculpted physique that only _she_ was privy to know under his business suit, Miles Edgeworth was so breathtakingly handsome that both women _and_ men stared at him. He was made all the more so because he paid no more heed to this fact any more than he paid mind to his devotees. There was absolutely nothing more irresistible than a man who had no idea about his swoon-worthy effect on the opposite sex. How fortunate she was to have gotten her hooks into Miles Edgeworth; a suave, debonair gentleman who was so far from conceit that he genuinely appeared to have no clue that one could get lost in his long lashed, amethyst grey eyes, or spend hours daydreaming about his flawlessly sculpted Roman features and lush lips being pressed against theirs.

Or was that just _her_ in all her besotted foolery?

No, Franziska decided. She was most definitely not alone in her thoughts about the desirability of her mate. Which was all the more reason she wanted to seal the deal with him sooner, rather than later.

_Tonight_ if possible.

"Well, make sure you convey my regards back to Mr. Raymond Shields and to Kay from me," Franziska told him. "While we're on the topic of friendly faces back in the States, what was it you wanted to speak to me about earlier, Mr. Jet-Setter?"

"Yes, about Maya's 21st birthday next weekend. I would very much like to attend. It also coincides with matters I must tend to out in Los Angeles anyway."

"Would these matters have anything to do with you barely setting down your bags at home before your wanderlust ways take you away from me again not even a week later?" Franziska pouted.

"Well, for one thing, I'd hoped you'd come with me to the festivities, _meine dame_, as my plus one."

"I am hardly a friend of Phoenix Wright's or Maya Fey's," she reminded him. "I highly doubt either of them would be desirous to toast glasses with the woman who has previously whipped the former on numerous occasions and tried to prosecute the latter for murder."

"Previously, I've succumbed Wright to verbal lashings that would rival those of your whip," Miles shrugged. "I am also guilty of having previously been the prosecution against Miss Fey. She knows it was nothing personal. The past is the past. Neither hold any ill will against either of us. As you know, those two Cupids are the primary reason you and I are together."

"And I'm sure somewhere down the line we shall find a way to repay the favor. But be that as it may, Miles, I refuse to be a gatecrasher. He invited _you_. _I_ wasn't invited."

"Wright knows we are together. There is no need to send you a separate invitation if he's already extended one to me. Besides, unless you have business affairs next weekend, I really want you to come back to LA with me. I have been making some decisions lately, and they include you, _meine dame._"

Franziska felt her pulse quicken at the words. "Oh really? What sort of decisions?"

"During my last stint in LA, I realized that you and I have been together for some time now, Franziska." Miles reached over and took her hand, his expression earnest. "Although it has been blissful being just the two of us all this while, I think it's time we thought about having an addition to our family."

Her mind was racing. So he _had_ been thinking about having a future, and a family with her all this time as well! While Franziska was a tad old-fashioned and would have preferred to be legally wed before baring his offspring, she loved him so much that she was willing to break that steadfast rule. Surely a wedding would follow suit eventually. Why wouldn't Miles want to marry the mother of his children?

Franziska felt her heart flutter with anticipation. She was so delirious with joy she could barely speak. "Addition?" She whispered.

"I've got so much love to give, and I want to expand it in our home," Miles looked deeply into her eyes. "Franziska, how would you feel about soon hearing the pitter-patter of little feet?"


	10. Wanderlust

**Chapter Ten: ****Wanderlust**

Franziska thought she would nearly burst with joy. "I have been dreaming of this for so long," she whispered, her eyes shining with happiness as she looked at Miles. "There is nothing in the world I could ever want more, _liebling_."

"I was hoping you would say that." Miles smiled lovingly at her. "I've wanted one for the longest time, although I wasn't too certain about your reaction. But now that I know we're on the same page, I am so delighted that you share my excitement. I even have the name picked out."

Franziska was surprised. He'd even gone as far as to pick out names? Without discussing them with her first? She'd liked the name Gregory for a boy in honor of his late father, and for a girl she'd thought Mila was beautiful as a female variation of Miles' name, while Manfrieda could have been a nice secondary name to commemorate her Papa, assuming Miles wasn't opposed to that idea. But she was trying to be more open-minded and flexible now, and saw nothing as set in stone. If he had his heart set on a name, she could certainly at least hear him out.

"Go on," she urged softly. "I'd love to hear it."

"What do you think of then name Pess?"

"Pess?" Franziska blinked. "What kind of name is that?"

"It's the perfect name! Believe me, when you meet her, you'll fall in love with her as much as I have, and agree that it was made for her, _meine dame_."

"Her?" she echoed blankly.

"Pess, this absolutely beautiful golden retriever I found from a top breeder in Los Angeles when I was over there," he told her excitedly. "I'm in the process of ensuring she has all her shots and purebred papers together right now even as we speak. We just took to each other immediately. I can't wait for you to meet her. I just know you'll fall in love with her as much as I have!"

Franziska sat there, her smile still frozen on her lips even as she felt her heart sinking down into her shoes, which were brand new Louboutin pumps, purchased to match the new white Halston dress she was wearing as part of her painstakingly chosen attire for the evening.

A dog. All this time she had been day dreaming about being the mother of his children and thinking of meaningful names for them. Had been giddy at the notion that he shared the same aspirations… and this entire time, he been thinking about them becoming parents…to _a dog_ ? In_ Los Angeles_, no less!

"You do like golden retrievers, don't you _meine dame_?" Miles was looking at her expectantly, noting she still hadn't spoken since he'd made his revelation. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind that I picked her out already and you didn't already have your heart set on some sort of smaller breed?"

Oh yes, she'd had her heart set on a much smaller breed. One of the approximate six to nine pounds at birth variety that would eventually grow up and know how _use_ the toilet instead of _using it_ as a_drinking bowl_!

Struggling to maintain a leveled tone, Franziska finally spoke. "I hope it won't be a lot of trouble to arrange all the certifications and papers in order to bring her over here?"

"That's the other thing I wanted to discuss with you." Miles cleared his throat. "Pess is going to stay in LA."

"How did you plan on keeping and taking care of a pet in American when you are residing in Germany?" As soon as she'd spoken the words, Franziska held her breath afterwards, already knowing the answer.

"Here's the thing,_ meine dame_. After much thought and consideration, I've decided, as my investigative partners are all in the States and most of my investigations seem to be around there anyway, that it would probably be best if I moved back to California."

Even though she'd anticipated the response , Franziska still felt as if she had been sucker-punched.

He was going to get a dog and move back to LA. And had decided both without even speaking to her first, while she had been foolishly fantasizing about their future together like a naïve, idealistic simpleton.

"I know this may come somewhat as a surprise," Miles said quickly, looking uneasily at her stoical expression upon hearing his news. "But while my relocation may seem sudden, I'd hoped the news of a pet would be welcome and less unexpected. After all, you've been dropping hints about it for months now."

"I'm sorry?" Franziska couldn't even feign composure anymore as she looked him in wide-eyed shock. "_I_ have been hinting about this?"

"Of course! Remember all those times we'd go to the park and see the delightful tots playing with their pups and you repeatedly commenting about how you would love to see one of them running afoot someday?"

Franziska frantically rewound the memories all those times she'd happily been pointing out the objects of her desire to Miles. She thought she'd been completely obvious about what she'd meant, without being so overtly to the point where he would have gotten skittish. All this time she'd been saying she'd wanted one of those running afoot someday…

The big foolish fool of a man had thought she'd been referring to _**dogs**_?

It was so completely and utterly ludicrous, it was almost comical. She would have actually burst into laughter if she wasn't so certain that it would be accompanied by tears of hysteria.

Luckily for Miles, her trusty whip, which she'd mostly forsaken for his sake, was tucked upstairs in her bedside table and nowhere near her at the moment!

It wasn't that Franziska minded having a pet. She had just assumed that a dog would later complete her picturesque vision of being married, and having a home with 2.3 children, and then a dog. Not have it be first and foremost on the list. And certainly not when getting one meant that her beloved would be trotting off across the globe, without her!

Tears stung her eyes and she immediately looked down at the remains of her dessert plate so he wouldn't see them. Unfortunately, she didn't do so fast enough.

"Franziska?" Miles looked at her with loving concern. "_Meine dame_, why are you so upset? I certainly wasn't planning on moving back to Los Angeles without you. I want you to come with me. You and I…and Pess…we can be a family together there."

She shook her head, unable to speak. It wasn't that simple. She didn't just want to keep shuffling locations, having them follow each other across the globe on a whim anymore. She didn't just want to play mommy and daddy to a dog, however dear it may be. She wanted…more.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, pushing back her chair and rising. "I need to…I'll be right back."

"Wait!" He exclaimed, placing a hand on her shoulder as she went to pass him. "_Meine dame_, please! I need to understand why you're so sad. What have I done wrong? You can certainly still work for Interpol while living in LA, and Gumshoe said our old office space is still available. You could even still work in the one right next to mine! I was hoping you'd be pleased."

"This isn't the way I want it to be anymore, Miles!" She cried, no longer able to hold back the dam of tears that had kept threatening to burst. "You can't just expect me to be picking up and reshuffling my whole life and career again just because you've precipitously come down with a case of puppy love and wanderlust. I know you did it for me over a year ago when I came here, but things have changed. They're different now. _We're_ different now. I need something more permanent if you're going to expect me to just follow you around like the obedient canine you suddenly seem to crave in your life now. I need something more secure, more real…I need _more_, Miles. I thought I'd made it so obvious…how you can just not understand…" Her words trailed off as she shrugged off his hand and ran out of the dining hall, nearly blinded by her tears.

Miles stared after her, completely dumbfounded. He realized he'd been holding his breath in his chest during her unexpected outburst and he released it slowly, trying to steady his nerves. He turned from the table and headed to Franziska's study. It had formerly belonged to Manfred Von Karma, and contained the large mahogany cabinet where he had kept his prized collection of vintage wines and best liquors.

And at that precise moment, more than anything in the world, Miles Edgeworth desperately needed a drink.

Miles poured himself a stiff brandy and paced the room. He walked over to the desk and perched his hip against the edge of it, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid, relishing its warmth as it seared a path down his throat. He mulled over the event that had just transpired.

She wanted something _more_? All this time he'd thought she was so happy with him, with the way things were. He remembered his realization a few months ago at Très Bien, that she was the woman he could genuinely see himself spending the rest of his life with. He had thought it was too soon to say such things, and hadn't wanted her to think he was trying to mimic the whirlwind romance of Gumshoe and Maggey, who were married and expecting all within a year after not even a year of courtship. Plus, she was still so young, and in the height of her career. He truly hadn't thought she'd want to settle down at this point in her life.

The dog had been an impulsive decision, but he'd honestly thought she liked them, after repeatedly pointing them out to him in the parks. Miles and had hoped it would sort of be a trial run of how she'd be in 'parenting'. As much as he loved Franziska, he would be the first to admit she didn't exactly exude domestic or maternal instinct!

At the detective's wedding, she had looked aghast at the weeping antics of Maya and teary state of Phoenix, which had hardly seemed encouraging! All the while, Miles had been thinking of how delicately pretty she had looked in her lacy pink bridesmaid gown, and how resplendent a bride she'd be someday.

_Someday_….

Why was that word nagging him so much at that moment?

Shaking his head, Miles took another large swig of his drink and looked thoughtfully at the floor in deep consternation. That was when he saw it.

A loose piece of cream colored stationery, sticking out of one of the drawers of the otherwise spotless desk, as if Franziska had hastily shut it without ensuring it was properly tucked in, which was untypical for a woman of her fastidious nature. Which meant that it was possibly something that she had tried to hide in swiftness, because she didn't want anyone to see its contents.

Which made him all the more inquisitive to read it.

It wasn't as if he was snooping, Miles tried to justify to himself, while his hand slowly moved towards the paper as if on its own volition. After all, it was there in plain sight and not fully hidden. And Franziska had once said that they were a couple and should have no secrets from each other, hadn't she?

_Stop the lollygagging already, Edgeworth!_

Miles' eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the sheet in his hand, covered with his lover's elegant penmanship.

_**Franziska Von Karma-Edgeworth**_

_**Franziska Hildeberta Edgeworth**_

_Hildeberta_? Miles grimaced. He knew that had been the name of Manfred's mother, but it seemed too archaic, too traditional, too hideous a name for the old man to have bequeathed his lovely young daughter! No wonder Franziska had kept mum all these years about what her full name was!

Miles also couldn't suppress a small cocky smirk from blooming on his face as he noted that she'd put tiny hearts around the names and over the I's instead of a dot. After all this time, he'd had no idea that his tough as nails lover could have fallen in love like a schoolgirl. Then he reminded himself how young she'd been when they'd gotten together, how she was only just 20 now, so it was to be expected. Still, it offered him a great deal of amusement and satisfaction. It was reassuring and heart-warming to know what her true heart's desires were and he hadn't been alone in his visions of a long-term future.

_Someday…_

* * *

Franziska and Miles were dancing at the Gumshoe's wedding reception. They were both incredible dancers, skilled in everything from ballroom to tango. A small circle of admiring spectators had formed around the graceful couple who were pure poetry in motion to watch on the dance floor. Thanks to the dance lessons Manfred had forced them to endure as children, the end result was the two of them together were Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire reincarnated. He spun her around, the skirt of her dress twirling gracefully around her shapely legs before he caught her again and pulled her against his muscular chest. She wrapped her slender arms around his neck as the music tempo slowed down. Celine Dion's _The Power of Love_ began to play. Miles held her tightly against him, loving the way her body melded perfectly against his as they swayed to the lilting lyrics of the songbird singer.

_**Cause I am your lady  
**__**And you are my man**_

Franziska gently brushed a slightly damp lock of hair off his face, still flushed from the exertion of the tango they had just performed. "I think we may have stolen the spotlight from the bride and groom," she giggled. "If nobody knew we were a couple before, I'm sure they most _definitely_ now have their suspicions that indeed, I am your lady. And you are my man."

"Well, it doesn't help that you nearly trampled over Miss Fey in your haste to catch the bridal bouquet!" He laughed. "Not suspect behavior_ at all_!"

"Please! They all know how competitive I am," she scoffed. "Besides, if they are curious, let them be! You're holding me so tightly right now, we're surely giving them something to talk about." The concept didn't seem to faze her in the least.

_**Whenever you reach for me  
**__**I'll do all that I can**_

"Can I help it if I want to keep myself as close as possible to the most beautiful woman here?" He asked tenderly. "You are a vision tonight, _meine dame_. Nobody can take their eyes off of you."

"They're not looking at me, they're looking at you, _liebling_!" She insisted. "You look even more dashing than the groom. Although the scruffy detective cleaned up quite well today, I have no doubt you would still be the ever more handsome one when it is your turn to wear a bridegroom tuxedo…_someday_."

Miles was taken aback by the statement. He wasn't sure if they were still engaged in mutual flattery at this point, or if Franziska was seriously making a reference to them getting married down the line. Either way, further discussion on the topic at a friend's wedding reception was neither the time nor place, so he just rested his chin atop her head and murmured, '_danke, meine dame_."

_**We're heading for something  
**__**Somewhere I've never been  
**__**Sometimes I am frightened  
**__**But I'm ready to learn  
**__**Of the power of love**_

Miles smiled at the poignant memory, one of the happiest ones he'd ever had of the two of them. He realized in retrospect that their brief conversation had indeed been a more profound one than he'd initially realized. Why, _oh why_ was hindsight always 20/20?

He looked down at the paper again and was confounded with amazement at what else he saw written there.

_**Gregory Franz Edgeworth**_

_**Mila Manfreida Edgeworth**_

Miles closed his eyes and crumpled the paper against his chest as a quiet, distressed moan emitted from him. A simultaneous inundation of self-loathing, coupled with the full realization of everything, hit him with the force of a tidal wave.

Only just now. At that exact moment.

When it may already have been too late.

Miles Gregory Edgeworth, reigning undefeated Fool Prosecutor Extraordinaire.


	11. Indecent Proposal

**Chapter Twelve: ****Indecent Proposal**

The aching familiarity of that mischievous grin, combined with the thrill of being in his arms, made Franziska's spirits soar, and feel light-hearted enough to float. Not to mention the euphoric joyfulness brought by his words, and what they _symbolized_.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes with a sexy, confident expression on her face.

"You know, Miles, it's still your birthday," she purred. "I think it's about time we got to that _dessert_ I promised you."

"But we've already had that superb black forest – oh," Miles caught on quickly when he spotted her lascivious look. "I imagine it will be slightly lower calorie, though?"

"But equally as _sinful_, I assure you." Franziska pulled away from his arms and stepped back. Reaching behind her neck, she deftly released the two ties that bound her sleek halter dress together and let it slide slowly down her body, clinging briefly to her hips for a second before drifting to the bearskin rug at her feet, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her ivory stiletto heels, snow-colored see-through lacy bra, and matching wispy lace panties, with the blaring fire place creating a sensual, luminous glow over the lusciously displayed curves of her beautiful body.

Miles felt his mouth go dry as he looked at the vixen standing before him. Never before had pure, virginal white looked so decadently, irresistibly _impure_ and _unchaste_. He felt himself easily topple on the armchair behind him as she shoved him backwards with one scarlet-tipped hand, and felt his blood pressure, among other things, rise.

She walked over to him, and put her lips to his, asking for their familiar kiss. She ran her tongue along his lips, parting them enough to slide its tip inside his warm mouth. He surrendered under her coaxing, and she deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced in slow motion. She moaned once, sending a whole new shiver down his spine, straight to his groin. A loud gasp escaped from his throat. The kiss was long, and as satisfying as a favorite meal.

Without warning, she suddenly wrenched her mouth away from his. Then, without smiling at him, without saying a word, without doing anything other than meeting his eyes, she slowly sank down at his feet and unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, pushing the sides of the material apart to bare his muscled chest and rippling abdominals, before expertly unbuckling his belt. It was utterly surprising—and red hot. She was mistress of the art and he was her equal.

Franziska caught the hungry look in his eyes. "Brace yourself birthday boy." She gave him an irrepressible smile. "I'm about to give you a present that you'll _never_ forget."

Neither knew if it was seconds, minutes, or eons that they lay in a state of complete exhaustion. He lay back, idly watching the last of the glowing embers in the fireplace in a state in blissful satisfaction, with Franziska's satiny head resting against his chest, feeling like the happiest, luckiest man alive.

Miles was the first to move. He propped himself on one elbow and gazed down at the sleeping angel at his side. Pressing a gentle kiss on her temple, he leaned over with gratitude and tenderness, and murmured, "You are the _first woman, the first woman, the first woman_…"

Franziska stirred lazily in his arms before cracking open one sleepy eye and barely bit back a triumphant smirk as she looked up at him. "May I propose a _lifetime_ of such glorious satisfaction, _liebling_? Was that enough incentive for you?"

"That was definitely the gift that kept on giving!" He chuckled. "And _yes_!"

"Was that a _yes_ to a satisfied lifetime with me as your _frau_ or to that being incentive enough?" She persisted silkily as she ran her nail down his throat to his chest, reveling in her freedom to do so.

"Marry me_, meine dame_."

Franziska stared deeply into his smoldering grey eyes, searching for any signs of reluctance or coercion, but saw only leaping arcs of desire, love and sincerity. Then, instead of replying, she pulled down his head and impressed a hungry, twisting kiss on his receptive mouth that made his heart pound and his blood race as the kiss deepened. Both were panting when they finally parted.

"I'm going to take that as an indubitable _yes_! I guess this means we're engaged now," he said, still breathing unevenly.

"So your post-coitus proposal was an affirmative to _my _initial marriage proposition?" She jibed, the corners of her mouth curling up into a sensuous, exultant smile.

"Oh, _yeah_, " he drawled, smiling and nodding his head before ravenously claiming her lips with his own again.


	12. International Man of Mystery

**Chapter Thirteen: ****Miles Edgeworth, International Man of Mystery**

_Los Angeles_ – April 16, 5:30 p.m.

Franziska closed her eyes in the back of the taxi, which had picked her up at LAX Airport and was driving her to Miles' penthouse.

Correction. _Their_ new home. A small smile played on her lips despite the slight exhaustion due to the long flight from Europe. She was also absolutely starved. The lunch she'd been forced to endure on the airplane had hardly constituted as 'food', even though she'd flown first class, as usual, so she'd barely pecked at her so-called authentic fare of rouladen and spätzle.

Miles had flown back a few days prior, to get his 'affairs in order' and set up things at the residence in readiness for her arrival. He'd insisted on prepping a welcome home dinner for her, brushing aside her offer to prepare their evening meal upon her arrival.

"Why won't you let me showcase my culinary skills? I've come a long way from my blended salad days, I assure you! I've been practicing very hard these past few days in the kitchen," she'd protested to her fiancé the previous night while speaking to him on the phone. "My _mutter_ was a wonderful cook, _liebling_, don't you recall Papa always raving about her food? Her chef genetics definitely got passed onto my older sister Katharina; they have just been über delayed in unleashing within me, that's all! But Helga can attest that I make cabbage rolls and schnitzel that rival her own!"

"I just want you to be well-rested from your jet lag, is all, _meine dame_," Miles reassured her. "Miss Fey's birthday party is tomorrow night, remember. I'll not have my betrothed spending all her energies preparing meals when it could better be used relaxing and prepping herself to look ravishing for the occasion. Besides, you have the rest of our lives to wow me with…the masterful things you can _whip up_, and the more _G-rated_ things you can do with your hands!"

"As you like it, _liebling_." Franziska let out a throaty chuckle at the roguish meaning behind the words. Whoever would have thought that Miles Edgeworth, the stern-faced prosecutor, harbored such a delightfully naughty side?

"Just one thing, _meine dame_." There was a guilty, apologetic note to his voice now. "Despite my working round the clock to prepare the place and get my other matters dealt with posthaste, I'm uncertain I will have them ready in time to pick you up from the airport. Would you mind terribly taking a cab? If for any reason I'm not home, Hendricks will be here to serve you and see to your every need in the meantime."

Franziska raised a skeptical eyebrow at the receiver. He'd been back in Los Angeles since _Tuesday_, and the ever-prepared, meticulous, obsessive workaholic that was Miles Edgeworth was running behind with his deadlines? Inconceivable! It was as likely to happen as that lily-livered fool, Phoenix Wright suddenly growing a pair and finally telling the woman he loved enough to throw a milestone birthday party for that he was head over heels for her! What was next, the proverbial cow jumping over the moon?

Still, she knew Miles well enough that things must be most amiss indeed if he couldn't even get away long enough to make the 20-minute trip to the airport!

"It's fine, Miles," she assured him. "Assuming everything is running on time with the flights, and traffic is not too hectic, I should be home by about 5:30 or so tomorrow night."

"Thank you for being so accommodating, Franziska. So, perfect, you should arrive just in time for dinner at 6:30, which I will take care of. Till the morrow then, _meine dame_. I love you."

"_Ich liebe dich auch_, _liebling_."

"We're here, ma'am," the taxi driver said, jerking her out of her reverie and pulling in front of the main doors of the luxurious condominium building where Miles resided. She paid the man and thanked him for bringing her suitcase into the lobby. She had only brought one with her, planning on sending for more of her things later. Or flat out just get a new wardrobe from scratch, as few of the clothing items she'd packed that had been suitable for mildly cool spring days in Germany wouldn't make her positively _wilt_ under the same season sun in California!

Stepping off the elevator on the top floor, she fished for her key and had barely gotten it into the lock when the door suddenly swung open, and she was face-to-face with Hendricks, Miles' manservant.

"Welcome and good evening, Madam," chimed the middle-aged, dark haired butler, dressed in customary black attire with a white towel over one arm. A placid, easy-going smile was on his face as he bowed to her in greeting, one arm going behind his back and the other remaining in front of him at the waist. "It is a pleasure to see you again after so long. How was your flight?"

"It was fine, thank you, Hendricks. It's nice to see you, too." Franziska smiled courteously, stepping into the bright, spacious living room. Miles hadn't changed much of the place since her last visit. Her eyes roamed appreciatively around the residence that was to be her new home, taking in the large hearth, the sofas with regal looking upholstery and carved wooden embellishments, and exquisite, gold-framed oil paintings on the walls. She pointed to her bag in taciturn instruction, and the butler obediently took the suitcase and silently disappeared down the hall to the bedroom with it.

Franziska walked around, next headed through the grand entryway to the dining room, as well-lit and large as the one she'd been with, with wall tapestries, a huge, glittery crystal chandelier, and a long cherry wood table that was flanked by heavy chairs. She noted that the table wasn't yet set for supper, which was unusual. Then again, this was a seating for twelve, which would be a bit much for just the two of them. She walked past the dining area into another room, which was a smaller dining nook with a round glass table and service for four, only to find it unadorned of dinner settings as well. Now this was very peculiar. Miles had told her that they would be dining at 6:30, and it was half past five now. At home in Germany, the servants always had the dinner table set at least an hour prior.

_Maybe Miles is less stringent about these things at his own place_? She wondered, headed back to the living room with a puzzled frown on her face. It wasn't as if she were incapable of setting the table herself, it was just that Miles had made such a big deal out of preparing dinner for her that evening, and it appeared nothing had been done yet. Procrastination was simply not in her lover's vocabulary. If Miles had thought perchance he wouldn't be home in time for supper preparations, he'd have made Hendricks ready everything at _noon_ as he was so particular about details like this! Speaking of Miles, _where on earth was he_?

"Hendricks," she called, slightly startled when he suddenly materialized by her side as if out of nowhere. "Do you know where Miles is? Or what time he'll be back?"

"The Master has instructed me to draw your bath upon arrival and then I shall escort you to the place of your dinner venue," Hendricks proclaimed. "He also told me to tell you to dress for the occasion."

Franziska looked at him in surprise. They were going out for dinner then? And the butler was to escort her? Why couldn't Miles just pick her up himself? Or just send a car for her to take her to said secret locale? She mentally shrugged. If Miles wanted to play the part of the mystery man, who was she to object?

Well, it was a good thing she'd packed a few dresses in her bag then, she thought to herself as she plodded along the plush cream colored carpet path which led to the master bathroom. She quickly disrobed, sinking gratefully into the rose-scented water that filled the huge marble bathtub. The heavenly soak did wonders for her tired muscles, and Franziska was feeling much better by the time she was bathed and fully dressed. Being a woman of promptness, she met Hendricks back in the living room by 6:15, all the while wondering where on earth they could be going where it would take only 15 minutes to get to if she was expected to arrive in time. Everyone knew that anywhere in LA took at least 20 minutes! Hopefully Miles would understand if she were fashionably late?

"You look lovely, Madam." The butler graciously inclined his head towards her, a polite smile of admiration on his mustached lips.

Franziska had done the best she could with her appearance with the limited time she'd been given, but having been so hastily focused on being ready on time, she'd been too distracted to notice that she'd never looked more beautiful in her entire life. Her makeup was minimal, with just a hint of blusher on her high cheekbones, smoky eyeliner around her wide gray eyes, which made them look even larger than usual, and a hint of pearly pink gloss on her lips. She was dressed in a Dolce &amp; Gabanna sleeveless black classic tailored sheath, with a penciled skirt, elevated in lush floral lace and framed by scalloped fringe at the square neckline and just above the knee hem. Giorgio Armani crystal cutout, noir suede pumps were her selected footwear, with gilded crystals setting the elegant suede ankle-strap pumps alight, framing their cutout back and mesh-trimmed front. A scalloped crystal headband, along with small diamond stud earrings and a delicate freshwater pearl necklace with a teardrop diamond pendant completed the look.

"Thank you, Hendricks." She smiled somewhat shyly at the compliment as she took the proffered arm he extended her. "And yes, I'm ready." She was slightly bewildered however, upon stepping into the elevator, when the butler pushed the R elevator button above the penthouse, rather than the L one for the main lobby. "Hendricks, you pushed the button for up, not down," she informed him. "I think you made a mistake?"

"Not at all, Madam," Hendricks replied with a mystical smile as the elevator doors opened. "I humbly bring you to the rooftop, your dining destination for the evening." He stepped backwards into the lift, bowing one final time as the doors closed, leaving her standing there alone, unable to believe her eyes and completely stupefied at what she saw. As Franziska looked about at her unfamiliar surroundings, her eyes widened in delighted surprise at the scene that unfolded before her. The building rooftop, where she had never been, was unlike anything she'd ever seen in all of her existence. Tiki torches, track lighting and votive candles casted a romantic glow throughout the space, with amber-colored lights adding a dreamy glow.

In the center, a massive Ficus tree held court, with glimmering icicle lights dangling throughout to add a magical touch, and was surrounded by oversized, empty clam shells and lit-up candelabras, of all things. Magnificent purple Jacaranda trees, on full display, along with a forest of well-manicured, slender trees, all pointed to in the sky, while orchid-trimmed palm trees lined the perimeter of the space. Twinkling fairy lights were wrapped around the trunks of all the terrace trees, accompanied by statement-making bouquets of roses and snap dragons, in peach and blush, which sat atop the tall tree branches and draped with crystal.

Franziska honestly felt as if she were in a fairytale come to life and she was in the middle of an enchanted forest.

In a corner, atop a raised Dias, sat a canopy-draped with white chiffon, and topped with white hydrangeas along with a spray roses. On the platform was a string quartet, playing lively, tuneful baroque music in the background.

There was a round table for two, set with ivory linens, and two chiavari chairs, dressed in ivory covering, with champagne sashes. The table was set with exquisitely carved gold flatware, gold-rimmed glasses, and gold-rimmed chargers, designed with a rosette pattern, which added texture and dimension to the all-gold tablescape. Continuing the romantic look, tiny pin lighting illuminated the centerpiece – a gold antique vase filled with an arrangement of white peonies, white roses, peach roses, white hydrangea, peach garden roses and lilies of the valley. An abundance of votive candles emitted a soft warm glow for ambient charm.

It was completely breathtaking.

At this resplendent setting sat Miles, as handsome as always in a black suit and tie in place of cravat, who rose immediately upon seeing her, smiling broadly upon seeing her awed expression.

"Welcome home, _meine dame_," he said majestically, with a grand bow. He took her tiny hand in his own, placing a kiss upon it before straightening up.

"Miles," she breathed, still astounded by her surroundings. "What is all this?"

"Among many things, Franziska, your dinner that I promised you on your first night back." He pulled out her chair and once she was seated, went back to his chair across from hers. "I hope you're hungry after that long flight?"

"Famished," she admitted, smiling her thanks at the white gloved, black tuxedoed waiter who had appeared by her side and had filled her crystal goblet with wine. "But…why did you go through all this trouble just for dinner?"

"Because you're worth it," he replied simply, taking his own glass and clanking it against hers. "Cheers, _meine dame_."

"Cheers," she echoed, although the confusion was still evident on her face.

"Surely, you can understand now why I wasn't able to meet you at the airport," Miles said apologetically, peering anxiously at her face. "This is a slight for which I most sincerely hope I've since been pardoned?"

"Don't be ridiculous! As if I could ever be anything but filled with wonder and joy at all…this. I feel like a heroine of a beautiful, romantic storybook come to life! My goodness, _liebling_, it must have taken you ages!"

"It did," Miles confessed, with a rueful laugh. "Especially since you're well aware of my aversion to elevators. So while I am the mastermind behind all this, I did have an array of helpful, shall we say, elves who actually tended to the details to bring my vision to life. It required a multitude of trips to and from the rooftop, often from the lobby…via the stairs! I think I may have gotten thighs of steel as a result from today's workout alone!"

"You…took the stairs…to the roof…from the lobby…repeatedly?" Franziska was flummoxed beyond words, and overwhelmed at how much trouble he'd gone through. The building was 30 stories tall!

"I'm used to it for the most part," he shrugged. "After all, I take the stairs every day to and from the penthouse, right?"

"Then why must you insist on living in the penthouse, _liebling_?"

"Because." He smirked. "It's the best."

"And why settle for less?" She teased, taking the last bite of the superlative amuse bouche they'd just been presented with, which was Mandarin oranges &amp; salmon mousse with a raspberry puree.

"I never have, and I never will. It would certainly explain my choice in life partners, as well as residence, wouldn't it?"

"You are so unimaginative!" Franziska giggled, although secretly pleased at the sincerity behind the clichéd words. She placed down her cutlery so the server could clear her plate. He was almost instantly replaced with another attendant, in identical attire, carrying a two silver-domed platters. "Sir, your appetizer, bincho grilled black Alaskan cod, hijiki rice salad, avocado, kimchee endive with gochujang aioli," the waiter announced grandly, lifting the domes with a bravado. "And for the lady, Fanny Bay &amp; Shigoku Oysters with Little Neck Clams, with mignonette cocktail sauce."

Franziska waited until the waiter had left before leaning across the table, a mischievous grin on her face. "Was there a reason you ordered a known aphrodisiac for me tonight, _liebling_? Were you trying to ensure something?"

"You wound me with your baseless conjecture, madam." Miles returned her grin with a roguish one of his own. "Even if I were attempting to woo you out of that divine dress you look so devastating in, my seduction techniques would never be so blatant. Besides, after all this time, I'd assume they're evidently _unnecessary_."

"Unnecessary, you say?" Franziska dug into her starter with gusto, she was so ravenous. She affected her most haughty countenance, even though her eyes were sparkling with suppressed mirth. "So you are that presumptuous that I am a sure thing, are you? Or is it more of your rakish mindset leading you to believe you can have your gratuitous way with me just because you got me dinner?"

"Of course not." He deadpanned. "But in spite of being a refined gentleman, I am allowed to be prone to wishful thinking, surely?"

"Well, far it for me to shatter thy dreams kind sir!"

They both cracked up then, causing the poor waiter who had come to collect their plates to nearly drop them in surprise at the sight of the puritanical prosecutor, who had nearly run them ragged earlier that evening with his unrelenting demands for excellency, now relaxed, smiling and pleasant in the company of his lovely dining companion. The server was supremely grateful for this welcome change in demeanor. He sincerely hoped that all would go according to plan, lest the man's newly delightful disposition unexpectedly lapse!

_If there's a God,_ the young man silently prayed. _Please don't let __**me**__ be on the receiving end of that unleashed wrath should things go awry..._


	13. The Power Of Love

**Chapter Fourteen: ****The Power of Love**

Another attendant arrived at the table, his arms laden with mouth-watering, aromatic plates that, once the domes were removed, looked almost too artful to consume.

"Sir, your second course, Dungeness crab risotto, with millet, quinoa, pressed oats, sunflower seeds, and chives. Madam, ricotta gnocchi, homemade lamb sausage, sun dried tomatoes, Marcona almonds and capers."

Franziska took a heavenly bite, closing her eyes for a moment as she relished the sublime food melting on her tongue before she shot an amused look at her fiancé. "Risotto, _liebling_? What happened to your California low carb diet?"

"I ran up and down 30 flights of stairs about a dozen times today,_meine dame_," he shot back, chuckling. "I truly will require the quick energy fuel to get me through this evening! I don't think this will even put a dent in my diet…I am positive today's activities have left me with cast-iron thighs you could crush a coconut with!"

Franziska laughed. "Weren't they always capable of such?"

"Not at all. Perchance a _grapefruit_ prior to today's unaccustomed exercise, but I've most certainly moved up on the food cracking scale, I assure you!"

"Why on earth did you put yourself out so, _liebling_?" Franziska was suddenly serious. "I recall you said, 'among other things' as the reason for all this splendor, but inexorably, welcoming me back home to the city of angels wasn't the sole motive for this grandeur spectacle?"

"Spoken like the ever diligent prosecutor who has known me for far too long," Miles praised. "You're have correctly identified my mens rea in this happenstance. There is indeed ulterior motive behind my modus operandi."

"Well?" She pressed, when it appeared he wasn't about to go on. A server came to clear their plates. "Aren't you going to profess the logic behind all this?"

Before Miles could reply, another waiter appeared with two more domed platters.

"Your main course, sir, prime côte de boeuf, pommes aligot, armagnac peppercorn sauce. For the lady, wolfe ranch quail made with brioche stuffing, falafel macaroon, mint raita, eggplant compote, and lotus root."

"I will relinquish that information later, I swear it," Miles promised before he practically dove headfirst into his food.

Franziska barely suppressed a sigh. If there had ever been a time to lament about having too attentive a staff, it would have been then! Miles appeared to have no intention of picking up the conversation where it had left off, and left no room for further chatter. Instead, he tucked into his meal with such relish one would have thought it was his last one on earth! She wasn't sure if he was skillfully dodging her line of questioning or if he genuinely had such a voracious appetite from all his unacquainted physical activity earlier. Either way, she would have to be a complete shrew to intervene in his enjoyment of what was admittedly the most delicious meal she'd had in months if not years! For this reason, she decided to back off for now, and focused on her finishing her food. This was getting progressively harder to do as she was now so incredibly full from all the rich fare, she thought she would indeed burst!

Assuming she didn't die of curiosity first.

This mysterious act Miles was still somehow pulling had gone from being mystifying to downright maddening! Oh, he'd continued to converse, of course, but she was nowhere closer to solving the riddle of what had provoked her fiancé to pull out all the extravagant stops that night than she'd been half an hour ago!

Franziska couldn't help herself, she was paranoid that this whole romantic, grand rooftop gesture was because he was going to somehow pull the rug out from under her again! Consequently, she was going to be all pins and needles until the other shoe dropped. The _last_ time Miles had caught her off guard, he had announced their upcoming 'parenthood' and that he was emigrating! What _else_ could he possibly have up his sleeve _this_time?!

The time for the sweet course finally arrived, and Franziska was relieved it appeared to be a light one.

"Your dessert," the server announced proudly. "Citrus Baba, which is rum zabaglione, crème fraîche gelato and malt crunch. Enjoy!"

"This is wonderful," she remarked, savoring every morsel of the Italian dessert. "But I am so happy that you didn't get us a heavy cheesecake or anything of the ilk, as it would have indubitably busted either my dress seams or stomach lining!"

"You're threatening to have your attire spontaneously combust off that lush physique, yet I am to be reprimanded for having ungentlemanly thoughts of you without it?" Miles feigned a pained expression. "Have mercy, woman! I am _still_ a man!"

Franziska waved her dessert spoon at him in mock reprimand. "Alas, a gentleman is naught but a patient wolf, _Herr_ Edgeworth."

"Truer words hath never been spoken, _meine dame_," he readily agreed.

"I _may_ be willing to part with said attire…" she said coyly, batting her eyelashes at him. It was time to play logic chess with the master himself. "If _you_ were willing to do something for _me_ in return?"

"Hmm..." Miles looked thoughtful. "You're bartering your beautiful body here, so one can only assume that it must be pretty high stakes indeed. And while I am not normally a gambling man, I profess to being intrigued by the concept. I'm all ears."

"Don't sell yourself short," she admonished lightly.

"Name your price, madam, and I shall immediately, however blindly, agree to it, based purely on the knowledge that the _payoff_ will be well worth it to me."

"No risk, no reward?" There was a gleam in her eye. "In order to get me to part with anything, _liebling_, all I ask in return is for you to part with some _information_?"

"Go on?" He raised a well-groomed brow.

"Nothing too confidential," she assured him. "Just…ah, the other reason, or reasons, that you decided to spoil me so?"

"Back to that, are we?" Miles shook his head and chuckled. "I'm afraid I still can't tell you that, my dear impatient lady."

"Impatient? It's been over _two hours_ now, Miles! The sun has gone down and the stars are out now!" Franziska sulkily crossed her arms across her chest. "You promised to tell me later and have not honored your vow! You are no man of your word, _Herr_ Edgeworth. So consequently, I decree that _you_, sir, are _no_ gentleman!"

"I never said I would _tell_ you, _meine dame_." He answered smoothly. "I said that I would _relinquish that information_ later."

"Same difference!" A scowl twisted her pretty features.

"Not at all," Miles countered, unfazed by her mini burst of temper. "There is more than one way to let someone be privy to evidence, _meine dame_. You can _tell_ them about it…" He rose from his seat and put two fingers to his lips, letting out a loud, piercing whistle before turning back to her with a wink. "Or you can _show_ them."

The next thing Franziska knew, the most gorgeous golden retriever puppy she'd ever seen in her life came bounding up to them. Miles bent down to curb the exuberance of the squirming mass of golden fur, laughing with uncharacteristic glee as the canine licked her master's fingers and joyously wagged her tail before turning to Franziska, happily barking a greeting. The puppy stood on her two hind legs and tried to put her two front paws onto her new mommy's lap, but Miles snapped his fingers just as his fiancée delightedly leaned over and was about to take the dog into her arms. Immediately, the puppy put her paws down and looked expectantly up at her daddy, tail still wagging, but slightly subdued now.

_Meanie_! Franziska thought, looking longingly at the pet seated at her feet and yearning to cuddle her. Miles had been absolutely right when he had told her she would love the puppy the first time she laid eyes on her.

Franziska Von Karma was 110% suffering from an incurable case of puppy love. How could she not? Pess had such huge, dark doe eyes, and the silkiest looking fur! No more than two months old at most, the tiny puppy was still a bit too small for her big padded paws, and looked all the more endearing with a miniature snowy white cravat around her neck. She wondered why Miles hadn't let the dog come greet her…surely he wasn't thinking she'd be so silly as to care about something as trite as getting fur on her dress?

"_Meine dame_, as you've undoubtedly already gathered, this is Pess," Miles told her happily. "Pess, shake hands with your new mommy. Give paw."

Pess remained seated, but lifted one oversized paw at Franziska, who melted into a puddle of goo as she took the fuzzy paw in her hand. "Who's a pretty girl?" She cooed, leaning down and 'shaking paw' with one hand and stroking the top of the puppy's head with her free one.

"Now girl, just like how we practiced," Miles' commanded. "Franziska, sit back up please. OK Pess, jump up!"

Franziska had leaned back in her seat just in time to swiftly catch Pess as she leaped from the ground into her arms. Pess looked at her, tongue out in a goofy puppy grin, obviously proud of her achievement as she sat, happily panting, on her mommy's lap while Miles praised "Good girl, Pess!" In the background.

Franziska was so intently petting the puppy and gently pulling at her silken ears that she didn't even notice Miles coming over to her seat and kneeling down at her feet. She looked down and saw him by her chair, on bended knee, and gasped in shock.

"Miles, what in the world…?"

"Lift up Pess's cravat, _meine dam_e," he instructed quietly.

With an excited laugh and a questioning glance, Franziska acquiesced, and saw a wine red leather collar underneath the ruffles, the same color as Miles' work suit. But it was what was _attached_ to that collar that left her speechless. Her jaw dropped as tears filled her eyes.

"Oh, Miles," she breathed.

Taking advantage of her momentary stunned reaction, Miles reached over to Pess's neck, nimbly undid the collar, and removed the glittering heart-shaped diamond ring Franziska had fallen in love with several weeks ago. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger and looked up at her earnestly.

"On Pess's behalf, I need to first ask if you'll agree to be her mommy alongside her daddy," Miles began, his voice thick with emotion. Seeing her silent, vigorous nod, he continued. "Franziska, I've known you nearly my whole life. I feel like I've loved you forever, in life times before. One way or another, first as a brother loved a sister, then later, the way a man loved a woman, I can't remember any point in my life where I didn't in some way love you."

He paused for a moment to swallow the lump in his throat and looked down for a moment as if to gather his thoughts, and when he looked into her eyes again, she saw they were glistening with tears. "From the moment we got together, I felt at once that you were what people call one's better self. I have known only a few before you, but those other girls have all been strangers. But you… somehow, _you_ were like me. My kindred spirit. When I'm with you, I feel complete, and I know that we are truly meant to be. I will not love for the sake of loving, but I will love because of you. 50 years later, I will still love you the way I love you now. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you, and I can't imagine my life without you. This is true from the bottom of my heart. I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion. I ask you, Franziska Von Karma, to please do me the great honor of being my wife?"

Joy spun through Franziska's system so fast she was dizzy with it, and her heart was so swelled with emotions she felt as if it would burst. Tears of happiness fell from her eyes, and onto the squirming puppy still nestled in her lap. She gently lifted Pess up to her face and pressed a gentle kiss onto her daughter's furry head before carefully lowering her to the ground, blinking furiously as she wiped away the tears. She'd be damned if she'd be a weepy mess for the most incredible moment of her life. The man of her dreams, her soul mate, was being romantic and gloriously gushy and she wanted to enjoy every wonderful moment of it.

Then she took Miles' chin between her hands and looked into his handsome, loving face, knowing without any shadow of a doubt that it was the one she wanted to wake up to every morning, and grow old beside, every single day for the rest of her life.

"I love you, too," she said tenderly, pulling back to smile into his eyes. "I love everything about you. Your ambition and drive, your integrity, your devotion to friends and family, even if they aren't blood related. I love your sense of humor and how incredibly fantastic you are in the boudoir. I just love you, period. It would be _my_ honor to marry such a beatific and tenderhearted gentleman, Miles Edgeworth," she whispered before giving him a kiss of aching sweetness, the silken fall of her hair gliding across his throat. He returned the passionate embrace, rising from his kneeling position and lifting her up into his arms, all the while never allowing his lips to leave hers. With the heavenly feeling of her body pressed against his, Franziska could feel every beat of his heart, and gave a giddy thanks to the man upstairs, knowing it belonged to her.

When they finally parted, she thought their magical, romantic, cinematic-worthy moment had been so implausibly perfect that it had made her feel like she was hearing the proverbial violins playing. Then, her laughter rang through the trees when she realized they were both _literally_ hearing the string quartet beginning to play the first bars of Celine Dion's _The Power of Love_, the very song they had danced to at Gumshoe's wedding.

Miles gently took her hand and placed the ring on her finger, noting how perfectly it fit her. It was as made for her as she was for him. He then gave a grandeur bow.

"May I have this dance, _meine dame_?"

She smiled adoringly and nodded, allowing him to guide her by the hand towards the swimming pool.

The full moon and a gentle breeze lent a magical feel to the evening. The deck of the Olympic sized pool was completely lit up with large lotus lanterns floating in the water and underwater colorful lights. A dance floor large enough only for two people had been installed. As they headed to that that very floor, Franziska noted the lovely fresh orchids and roses floating about in the water. The mirrored dance floor drifted above the water, giving them a beautiful platform for their dance to the song that would henceforth be known as 'theirs'. Swaying smoothly in one another's arms, they were able to enjoy the blissful feeling as if they were the only two people in the world.

"I have some more enquiries for you _liebling_," she teased softly as she stroked the smooth hair behind the back of his collar.

"Damn your unquenchable thirst for asking questions!" Miles mock-groused, his eyes twinkling. "_This_ is what I get for wanting to spend my life with a relentless lawyer! However, feel free to fire away if you still think there are some mysteries I have left unsolved, _meine dame_."

"I took you to the jeweler's to look at that ring I so loved the very next day after we agreed we were now betrothed. I even gave you the pickup slip. Why didn't you just buy it right there and then?"

"That's simple. Because I at least wanted to surprise you when you got _that_!" Miles exclaimed. "I was so downtrodden that you'd agreed to spend your life with me with a barren finger still intact, and I wanted to bequeath the coveted ring you were due with some unexpected flair since my idiocy had robbed you of the proposal you were entitled to!"

"Fair enough, but the next obvious question was why you felt the need to go through all this trouble, _liebling_? We were already engaged, and have been for almost a week! Not that I don't love all that you've done tonight, but what inspired such an illustrious presentation of the ring to me?"

"Because," he drawled, a cheeky grin on his face. "I wanted to give you not just the _ring_ of your dreams, but the _proposal_ you deserved. Moreover, years from now, I refuse to tell our children and grandchildren that we got engaged after you orally gratified me and then allowed me to flip you over and have my wanton way with you on my birthday!" Franziska buried her head in his shoulder in embarrassment at his words, even though her shoulders were shaking with helpless laughter as he continued. "Beyond shadow of doubt you can understand how that is hardly the romantic tale I want to be passed onto the next generations of Edgeworths! As far as anyone needs to know, our official proposal and engagement story was _tonight_, _meine dame_. I trust you have no _objections_?"

"None whatsoever," Franziska replied serenely, even though her eyes were dancing with merriment. "There's just one thing though, _liebling_."

"And what would that be, _meine dame_?" He murmured as the song came to a close and he bent her over his arm with a flourish, into a dramatic dip.

"I just want to make sure that you remember, _Herr_ Edgeworth," she teased, looking up adoringly into his beautiful grey eyes. "_Who_ actually did the asking _first_."

Miles let out a shout of laughter, even as he kept his arm tightly behind her so she remained in the curved back position. "As if you would _ever_ let me forget, _meine dame_!"

"I so wouldn't!" She grinned impishly. "But that's one of the reasons you love me!"

"Why I'll _always_ love you," he corrected huskily, stroking her cheek and looking down at her lovingly. "To my life's end and beyond."

"To my life's end and beyond," she sighed back, closing her eyes blissfully as she drew him down to her once more.

* * *

_AN: This is the final chapter of Franziska and Miles' love story, although this chapter is immediately followed by an epilogue, which may not make much sense to you unless you've read my story about Phoenix and Maya's courtship, which this was a prequel to, entitled **Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman.**_


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue: ****The Other Side of The Phaya Tale**

_The Borscht Bowl Club  
_April 17, 2019 9:30 pm

"We're _so _late for the party!" Franziska cried in dismay, checking her reflection in the passenger visor of Miles' sports car for the millionth time. "This is beyond terrible, _liebling_! Bad enough to spring me on them without having given any prior warning I'd be attending, and now we're over half an hour late showing up! It is a severe etiquette breach even if they are more your friends than mine! As if they need yet _another_ reason to dislike me!"

Miles shrugged. While he deplored tardiness as much as his fiancée, it couldn't have been helped in this instance. And he didn't have the heart to tell the woman he loved in her current agitated state that perhaps their friends would _like_ her more and fear her/loathe her less if she stopped talking down to them and whipping them at every drop of a hat!

"You're the one who insisted she needed to change her clothes, _meine dame_," he reminded her. "I for one, thought the little denim dress you had initially picked would have been the perfect ensemble for the evening!"

"Miles, there was no way I could have worn anything that showed off any skin from neck to chest since my fiancé decided to channel his inner vampire and leave hickeys on all over me!" She grumbled, folding down the turtleneck collar of her turquoise sweater dress to ensure all love bites were properly hidden before finally getting out the vehicle and unenthusiastically following him to the bar entrance.

He flashed her a sexy grin. "I didn't hear you complaining about my overly zealous excitement at seeing you in that seductive dress an hour earlier!"

"You're right," she snickered. "It's as much my fault as yours. It's the excitement of being properly engaged, it still hasn't worn off! Otherwise I'd have found _some_ way to resist your amorous advances, exactly an hour before we were to leave the house, _Herr_ Irresistible!"

The cold blast of Siberian air hit them the minute they walked into the tavern, and Franziska shivered, suddenly thankful she'd changed into more suitably covering clothing as protection from frostbite! She'd have caught her death if she'd worn the strapless denim mini-dress out that night, even if the form-fitting nature of it did happen to drive her fiancé wild with desire!

She wondered what Maya would be wearing that night, and how she looked now. It had been ages since they'd seen her. Miles was fond of the birthday girl, and while she and Franziska had never been close, despite being the same age, she didn't feel any sort of ill-will towards the spirit medium and hoped that the evening wouldn't be completely catastrophic.

Miles was halfway through the bar when Franziska realized she'd forgotten something in the car.

"_Liebling_, your key please!" She gasped, grabbing his arm. "I left my whip under the seat, and I need to go fetch it!"

He looked at her with amused exasperation. "You _promised_ me you were going to be nice to everyone and that you _weren't_ going to whip anyone tonight, Franziska! I know you think they're all fools, but they're _my_ fools. _Our_ fools. And need I remind you _two_ of those fools got us together?"

"_Please_ Miles," Franziska begged. "I promise I shall try to be on my best behavior, but I feel positively _naked_ without it!"

With a sigh, he reluctantly handed her the keys and she blew him a kiss, telling him to go and find their group and she'd catch up with him.

_Besides, as much as you tell me to forsake my trusty sidekick, you never know when it may come in handy_, she thought to herself as she hurried out to the car. Better safe than sorry right?

Franziska caught up to Miles at their friends' table just in time to hear him reprimand that mother of all fools, Larry Butz for his leery, inappropriate conduct towards Maya - and right in front of her (presumably still unofficial) boyfriend, Phoenix Wright, too! She was surprised the defense attorney himself hadn't torn the ever-lecherous Larry a new one! Before she could say a word to praise her fiancé for his chivalry, he seemed to have sensed her presence behind him and pulled her to his side.

Miles then graciously inclined his head towards Maya.

"Please accept my sincere apologies for being tardy on this festive occasion, Miss Fey. My companion this evening had a last minute overseas conference call she needed to tend to. Might I add that you look most fetching this evening."

He gave a slight grandeur bow, which would have looked ridiculous if done by any other man, yet on the stylish and debonair Miles Edgeworth, just seemed swoon-worthily gallant.

"To atone for this however unintentional faux pas, do allow Franziska and me to buy the first round of drinks for everyone."

If she'd taken a drink at that moment, Franziska would have done a spit-take upon hearing Miles's smooth and convincing bluff about the cause of their lateness. Well, it was a better alternative than telling them _the truth_, which would have probably made _them_ all be spluttering instead! After all, with the exception of Phoenix and Maya, the other two had no idea that she and Miles were even _dating_, let alone betrothed _lovers_!

_Well done liebling_, she thought admiringly. _You may be a truth-seeking man as a whole, but when it comes right down to it, ultimately, you're still a Scheisse-talking lawyer!_

She was about to say something to further bolster Miles's kind words to Maya, who looked very grown up and quite beautiful indeed in a stunning red sequined dress – Phoenix Wright was a lucky man indeed if he ever managed to be successful in wooing her – but the looks she caught on the birthday girl's face, along with those of the rest of the group, stopped her cold.

_All_ of them, Larry, the scruffy detective, but most obviously, Phoenix and Maya _themselves_, were staring at her, slack-jawed and eyes bulging, in not so much surprise but _shock. And_ with, she was mortified to note, complete _horror_ by her very presence!

Oh she just _knew_ it had been a mistake to have Miles simply thrust her upon them all, impromptu like this! Franziska had never felt like a more unwelcome intrusion in her entire life, and felt her cheeks burning with humiliation. _Why_ had she listened to her fiancé and not just emailed Phoenix herself to let him know she'd be attending the party, and spared them all this awkward moment? For such a so-called genius, Miles wasn't exactly always exempt from the _fool_ category himself, especially when it came to social conventions!

She didn't have too long to dwell about this, however, as Larry had surprisingly been the first one to regain a sense of decorum and now, having ceased his overly enthusiastic greeting to Miles, turned to her, and hollered, "Franzy! Looking good as usual!" and _then_ suddenly locked his spindly arms around her in the world's most _suffocating_ bear hug!

Franziska visibly cringed at the unexpected and unwanted contact.

"Unhand me, you fool!" She hissed, as she struggled to breathe – for such a scrawny man the fool was misleadingly strong - and wished she hadn't made that foolish promise to her fiancé to withhold whipping!

_Miles Edgeworth, you're lucky I love you a much as I do!_

She caught her fiancé's eye and saw the grateful look on his face that she had refrained from unleashing her matchless fury upon his_ dummkopf _friend.

_You're welcome!_

Maya was next to recover from her astonishment and came to the rescue, purposely squishing herself between Miles and Larry so she could give the former a hug, an act which had forced the latter to loosen his grip on the silver-haired woman so she could mercifully, break free. Franziska shot the spirit medium a grateful smile when she finally was able to breathe again.

_You're alright after all, Maya Fey._

The birthday girl, while having no poker-face to speak of and being prone to emotional outbursts at times, was nevertheless better at playing the part of gracious hostess than her co-host, who still hadn't recovered from his foolish gawping stare at Franziska!

That was, until Maya pointedly stated, "While this is the most pleasant of, ah, _surprises_, we've always believed in 'the more, the merrier' concept. _Haven't we, _Nick?"

The gentle prod had the desired outcome of Phoenix finally snapping out of his gaping stupor and looking sheepishly at the two prosecutors.

"Absolutely," he agreed heartily, shaking Miles's hand and flashing Franziska his most shit-eating grin. "Welcome, guys. It's been awhile, huh? We were just getting ready to order. You look lovely tonight, Ms. Von Karma. Is that a new dress?"

Franziska barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. While she knew Phoenix had been the main Cupid mastermind behind her and Miles getting together, he still was a _complete_ fool who had extended the discomfiture of her unannounced arrival the longest. To top it all off, he appeared completely oblivious to the somewhat wounded look that had flashed across Maya's face upon hearing his asinine compliment, which she wasn't quick enough to hide.

_Looks like the foolish fool attorney has been playing dumb at noticing how much his former assistant has blossomed_, Franziska noted, torn between amused annoyance at the defense attorney and pity for the obviously love-struck girl at his side. _Who am I kidding? Play? Phoenix Wright could __**manage the team**__!_

"_Danke_, Phoenix Wright," she replied coolly. "It is something new that I picked up in Germany a sennight ago. While it is also spring over there, the weather is still chillier than here in Los Angeles this time of year. Although, considering the arctic temperature of this place…" she added pointedly. "I am most glad to be covered up somewhat, unlike your poor companion there, who is practically nude in comparison and appears to be morphing into a Smurf before our very eyes. Did you not think to tell her she may need a cover-up in this kind of environment?"

From the mortified expression on Maya's face, and the flustered look on Phoenix's, Franziska realized, too late, that her comment had been misconstrued. She hadn't really been trying to embarrass anyone, she'd only wanted the foolish man to actually _look_ at his lovely 'nearly nude' companion, and take note of her killer outfit, as Maya's forlorn eyes were obviously pleading him to do, but to her chagrin, she realized her efforts had been entirely in vain.

OK, and so _maybe_ she'd also wanted to break his balls just _a bit_ for choosing such a sub-Arctic place for his wannabe girlfriend's birthday party! But come now! How foolish could he be? Maya's lips were almost literally turning _blue_, so Franziska knew she wasn't alone in her discomfort.

Phoenix seemed flustered, although it was uncertain if it was due to the unsubtle complaint about his choice of venue, or the reference to said semi-scantily clad companion next to him, whom he was _still_ avoiding looking at.

"I-I, well, um, I _offered_ her one…" he stammered.

Thankfully, Miles gallantly saved them from further embarrassment by cutting in.

"Wright is not her keeper, Franziska," he admonished lightly. "Miss Fey is a grown woman now and can wear what she likes. I can certainly understand her wanting to be in her element on her special day and not be cloaked like a nun. And while it is a tad cool in here, it is nothing that will not be remedied by some warming liquor. I shall flag down a waitress to get that first round I promised everyone."

He stood up and signaled to a server in the distance, waving her over to them.

The arrival of the pneumatic blonde bombshell waitress at their table was when things started to go downhill. Apparently the hyper-sexual harlot knew Phoenix from his frequent visits to the saloon last year. Franziska was surprised Maya hadn't appeared to have taken note of that particular gem of information, which was that as soon as she'd gone back to her village, her former employer had made a beeline for the bar to attempt to drown his sorrows. It wouldn't have been the first time, Franziska knew, that Phoenix had fallen apart without Maya at his side.

Perhaps even if Maya _had_ been somewhat cheered by that little bit of trivia, it was completely obliterated by the waitress's blatant flirtations with Phoenix, who while too polite and awkward to fully thwart her advances or rebuke them, was certainly doing nothing to _discourage_ them, either!

The grotesque display was obviously eating Maya alive, and Franziska, as a woman, felt her heart ache for the other girl. It was heart-breaking to see the pained, jealous look in her dark eyes while she was forced to endure another woman trying to steal the man she loved away from her.

Of course, as sympathetic as Franziska was, she was also frustrated as hell at the foolishness of _both_ the defense attorney and his former assistant. It was really hard to take sides when they were _both __**completely foolish fools**_! Maya herself wasn't exactly innocent either, making barbed remarks the whole night to a confused Phoenix without further elaborating, and then trying to make him jealous by threatening to go out with Larry Butz!

Complete exasperated at one point, Franziska leaned over and whispered to her fiancé. "Miles, what can we do? This whole evening is turning into an utter disaster! I know we owe them, but they are _both_ completely impossible!"

"I am well_ aware_!" He hissed back in her ear. "Why do you think I was ribbing Wright about his idiotic BRO CODE and telling him that since Maya wasn't his current or former flame, those rules weren't applicable as a deterrent for Butz not dating her?! I was trying to force him to admit that he doesn't want Butz to date her is because _he_ himself is so desperately in love with her! But the damn cowardly idiot just…folded like a bad hand of cards in a poker game!"

Franziska could see how deflated Phoenix was from that lost battle of wits with Miles, whom he probably thought had been just acting like an insufferable know-it-all, instead of realizing his friend had merely been trying to force him to _man the hell up!_

She sighed silently.

_Liebling, we've got our work cut out for us._

Miles watched Franziska fume on Maya's behalf every time the flirtatious waitress came by and fawned all over the clueless, spiky-haired attorney. He could tell under her seemingly snide remarks and lofty demeanor, Franziska felt as helpless and distressed about the situation as he did. At least _he_ could give Wright some tough love and speak candidly to him if need be.

However, his lover and the spirit medium weren't friends at all, so any attempted aid to Maya would probably result in the birthday girl demanding to know why his fiancée was getting involved in a situation that was none of her business, or say something even worse!

So Franziska's hands were completely tied, and Miles could see her literally grinding her teeth as Tiffany pushed her heaving bosom in Phoenix's face at one point.

_OK, I may have thought Franziska overreacted a __**tad**__ to the waitress's innocuous flirty comment to me, _Miles admitted to himself._ But the way Tiffany's practically sitting in Wright's lap - while __**on the clock**__! – is completely unprofessional and …just __**wrong**__ on so many different levels! Why is he allowing this? Is he purposely trying to torture Maya? The poor girl looks like she's going to burst into tears any moment! And she tossed back that double shot Dead Lawyer drink I got her like it was water. Angry woman + copious alcohol+ daft defense attorney = disaster doomed to happen any time now... in five, four, three, two…_

"You porcupine-headed _prick_!" Maya hissed and without further warning, promptly tossed her Cosmopolitan right into Phoenix's astonished face before storming away from the table.

Phoenix sat there, spluttering, while droplets of icy vodka and fruity mixture dribbled down his face from his hair and onto his shirt. He gratefully accepted the handful of paper napkins Gumshoe hastily handed him and tried to dry himself off as best as he could with the flimsy material.

_...One! _

Miles didn't know if he should laugh at how ridiculous his martini-drenched friend looked, or give Wright the smack upside the head he so desperately deserved.

"Oh well," Phoenix smiled weakly, attempting humor to diffuse the apprehensive atmosphere. "At least it wasn't hot coffee this time, right?"

None of his friends returned the smile, just continued to gaze at him silently.

"W-what?" he finally asked, appearing genuinely bewildered. "What are you all looking at me like that for? As if _I'm_ the bad guy here!"

Gumshoe wordlessly busied himself wiping the wet areas on the table left over from Maya's drink-flinging.

Larry, still slumped low in his chair, let out a barely audible grunt.

Miles crossed his arms and tapped his finger, staring soundlessly at Phoenix. _PMS, Wright? Really? What the __**hell**__ were you thinking?!_

"Are you serious, you fool?" Franziska finally snapped, rising from her seat and, discarding her earlier promise to Miles, cracking her whip against the defense attorney's forearm with a rapid sharp flick. Phoenix cried out in surprised pain, and she glared at him before turning to face her fiancé, who was seated next to her.

"Excuse me, Little Brother," she said sweetly. "But could you please move aside? I need to use the restroom."

Miles raised a well-groomed eyebrow.

"Are you seriously still going to call me that even though we're now engaged?"

A cheeky smile flickered across her normally stern features.

"Forgive me, _Miles_. Force of habit, you see. It's hard to undo decades of custom within just a week."

"Uh huh," he smirked, a teasing spark in his eyes. "And you just _happen _to suddenly need to use the facilities at this particular moment, do you?"

"What can I say?" Franziska gave a little shrug, feigning insouciance. "When a lady has got to go, she's got to go, right?"

She squeezed past Miles, and once out of sight from her table, hastened her steps to the ladies' room.

The minute she was gone, Larry let out a long whistle of amazement and shook his head.

"Edgy, man that is one firecracker _dame_ you've got there!" He exclaimed. "Good luck trying to control _that_ spitfire for the rest of your life!"

Miles looked at his friend with a knowing smirk but stayed silent. How little the Butz, or _any_ of them, truly knew him _or_ Franziska. _He_ was the only one at that table who knew the real reason his secret softy of a fiancée had _suddenly_ decided to use the facilities just as Maya had run there in a fit of angry tears, just as much as he knew that there would be no taming of the shrew for him.

It wasn't needed.

Because his fiery tigress, when it came to _him_, was naught but a playful, purring kitten behind closed doors.

Their friends would never know the sentimental, idealistic, romance-loving girl that Miles knew.

The one that wept on not one but two occasions: at the airport when she thought she'd lose him, and then because she'd thought that he didn't want her to be the mother of his children.

The complete angel whose heart he had nearly broken with his utter stupidity, and who had just as readily forgiven him, because she loved him so unequivocally.

The warm, kind-hearted, mush-ball of a girl who had fallen in love at first sight with their puppy and cooed to her in baby-talk, and nearly cried earlier that evening because they'd had to leave her home with Hendricks for the night.

To the rest of the world, she was still the whip-wielding, bitch prosecutor with an anger management problem. To them, just as much as they would ever deem him as some sort of automaton, and as a stern, ruthless, unsmiling Prosecutor, _she_ _w_ould forever be seen as the same old tempestuous, volatile Franziska Von Karma.

Miles wouldn't have it any other way.

**THE END (Actually...the beginning...)**

* * *

**_A/N: I love these two, I really do. If you want to extend your visit my to world of Fredgeworth, Phaya and the rest of the Ace Attorney Gang, the final installment of this series, in progress, is called **Turnabout Everlasting**, and will take place post Apollo Justice/Dual Destinies, exploring the behind the scenes questions of where the hell Phoenix's best friend and girlfriend were when his life fell apart post-disbarment!_  
**


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